Now And Then
by DC Luder
Summary: Fifth in the Series of Three. Set two months after the conclusion of What Lies Ahead, the Family does battle with their oldest and greatest nemesis, tragically reminded that victory does come without defeat.
1. Now And Then: I

Title: Now And Then: I

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: After six weeks of unsuccessful searching, the Family fights for a day of normalcy.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Hang on kids, it's going to be a bumpy ride!

^V^

"One may smile, and smile, and be a villain."

William Shakespeare

^V^

"When can he have chocolate?"

There was a pause on the other end of the comm. link before Barbara replied, "Dick, he's not getting chocolate tomorrow."

"But didn't the pediatrician say he could technically have some at or around twelve months… and, I mean I'm no expert, but I think eleven and half months is at or around-."

"Dick."

"Sorry… But I just grabbed these guys trying to break into the ATT store across from the chocolatier on Aiken Ave and they had this cute little My First Valentine candy box in the window display…"

She finally laughed, "You love too much, Dick."

"I know, it's my greatest character flaw aside from giggling whenever someone says 'duty'."

As excited as I was for Ethan's fast approaching first birthday, I was all the more eager to celebrate Valentine's Day with him and Barbara. A day of normalcy after six weeks of scouring the streets of Gotham, searching for the grinning face we had all come to loathe.

We hadn't turned up so much as a single green hair let alone any indication as to where the Joker had fled to. Since New Year's, we had been practically working around the clock in order to find him. Tim, Cass and myself had taken to feigning work at the office while secretly mapping out old hideouts, making lists of former thugs who had worked under him as well as neurotically checking the police scanners and morgue reports.

After particularly difficult evenings, I couldn't help but think back to New Year's Eve, on the ride home from Wayne Manor. Ethan had been mumbling to himself in the back seat, fighting off sleep as best he could. Somehow, I managed to drive most of the way to the Clocktower with a vast majority of my attention on him rather than the road. Barbara had reached over and set her hand on mine as it held the shift stick, "You know what?"

"What?" I had replied.

"I think… I think it's going to be a good year… for us."

Not three hours later, the Joker and Harley Quinn were no longer residents of Arkham Asylum and nearly a dozen people were dead.

"Well… maybe he can have a flake of a Hershey kiss," Barbara's voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Seriously?"

"… I said maybe. I don't need him as hyper as you… Oop, Diana's calling, got to go."

After the faint click of disconnection sounded, I allowed my self to sigh, my breath fading into the air in a puffy white cloud. I had been touring the Village for a good two hours, picking up the slack while Batman carried out his unrelenting search for the Joker. My lens display showed it to be quarter after two and the temperature hovering around twenty degrees. At least it wasn't snowing.

I watched from above as a pair of cruisers arrived and picked up the trio of miscreants that had tried to make off with a crate of iPhones. Just as I was about to depart for Little Stockton, I heard light footfalls approaching from behind, an accomplishment considering they belonged to heavy high heeled boots.

Without turning, I said, "Happy Hallmark Engineered Holiday, Huntress."

Once she stood beside my crouched form, she replied, "Same to you… Been busy?"

I nodded as I rose and began trekking across the icy rooftop. Even though it had been clear skies for the last three days, Gotham was still recovering from a cold snap that had followed far too closely to a day of freezing rain. Although the ice had made the city glitter in the sun, it was still a pain to traverse it at night.

After taking a few steps after me, she asked, "How's the little one?"

Pausing, I turned to face Huntress, "Listen… I know… this is really our only social time together but I'd rather not openly talk about what happens when I'm not freezing my ass off on a rooftop in the middle of the night."

Huntress bit her lip briefly before responding, "Sure… sorry…"

I suddenly felt like a jerk and was quick to apologize, "No… I'm sorry, it's just that… being a father… It definitely has altered my perception of things."

She smirked, "Yeah, I noticed you're no longer leaping into as many vans emitting gunfire."

I smirked as well, recalling the last time we had seen each other. A week and half earlier, I had been on the tail of a van that had was carrying eight armed men that had cleaned out the safety deposit boxes of Bank of Gotham Where I would have usually dove in through the front windshield, I had opted to crash my cycle into the front bumper. After they had violently crashed into an empty bus stop, Huntress and I had moved in to drag their moaning and bleeding bodies out before the vehicle burst into flames.

"Hard to change diapers with only one functioning arm," I suddenly admitted.

"I could only imagine…" she suddenly looked towards Midtown, "Well, crime waits for no one." As she randomly leapt off of the roof, I was left standing alone just as tiny white particles began falling from the sky.

"Women," I muttered before finally making my own departure, heading in the opposite direction towards Little Stockton.

I was just crossing into the borough fifteen minutes later when I heard a gruff voice over the comm. link, "Nightwing?"

"Rodger dodger," I answered before spotting a gentleman trying to open a car door with a crowbar. As I watched from the second story roof of a dark bakery, I continued softly, "What's up?"

"Possible lead I need you to check out… Royal Flush strip club."

"That's the best Valentine's gift ever…" I whispered as I began to prepare for the jump down to the ground.

"Just do it," before silence.

After I took out the rookie carjacker and secured him on a street sign that declared No Parking From Here to Corner, I backtracked into the Village in order to pick up my cycle. Unfortunately, the one I had used as a road block earlier that month was unsalvageable.

Oops.

Even with the ice, I managed to get to the strip club within fifteen minutes. After driving by, I didn't see anything out of the element but had long since learned that appearances were misleading. As I parked in an alley two blocks away, Batman's voice found it's way to my ears once more, "I've run into six ex-cons this last week who have had Joker cards in their wallets."

"Where'd they get them?" I asked as I quickly made my up a fire escape.

"After some persuasion, one of them said he had been approached by a man at the Royal Flush."

"Hmm, what kind of cons are we talking here?" I questioned as I began to make my way back to the club. I slipped on a small patch of ice and took a moment to recover before finally getting my question answered.

"Small time thugs… mostly muscle… aggravated assault, grand theft, nothing too heavy."

I was just about to jump the alleyway onto the club's roof when I spotted a familiar figure smoking on the side door's step, "I see, well I'll get back to you."

Even though my landing had been nearly soundless, the man looked up, taking one last drag on his faux-cigarette before tossing it to the cold pavement. I approached at leisure, "What are you doing?"

He shrugged his shoulders under an oversized, dirty leather jacket before reaching inside the coat, "Now would be a good time to hit me… Wouldn't want to be seen voluntarily fraternizing with the good guy…"

After a sigh, I said, "I'm not going to hit you."

He smirked, "Either you hit me or I hit you."

"Damnit… All right, hold still."

I lunged forward and picked the man up but the jacket before shoving him into the metal door that lead to the club, hard enough to make a loud bang but not hard enough to bruise him. As I slowly lifted him up off of his feet, a task considering he was both taller and heavier than me, I heard pounding on the other side of the door, "What's going on out there!"

The man in my grasp turned his head, "Friendly conversation…" I slammed him into the door again before he could finish, "Might want to get the underage's out of the club Bernie, the masked brigade's on their way."

After hearing a loud curse from inside, I shook my head and let the man slip back down to his feet so I could look him in the eye, "Does you're wife know where you are?"

He shook his head before offering a smirk, "No doubt she thinks I'm where I've been for the last few weeks…. And I would hope no one would tell her otherwise."

"I want to live to see my son's first birthday, Bruce, you can lie to her all you want but I won't."

Bruce nodded, unrecognizable under the two weeks worth of scruff, two too many layers of an Adidas knockoff cologne and his hair dyed a dirty blond color. I had suspected he had started his own undercover operation given his lack of communication of late and wasn't too surprised to see my hunch had been right.

"So, anything I should know before I go in there?"

"I've yet to see any Joker cards being distributed-."

Again, not surprised at Bruce beating us to the punch, I asked, "How long have you known?"

He shrugged before making a move to walk by me, "Not long-." I grabbed his jacket and slammed him into the door, hard enough to cause another loud bang and hard enough to make him cringe. He corrected his answer after saying, "Nice touch… Almost a week and a half… Wanted to look into it before presenting it to Tim."

I tried to stare him down but found it impossible, especially seeing him in his current blond and grungy state. Once I let him go, I growled, "Get out of here… and for the love of hygiene, shower and shave or I'm telling Selina you've been hanging out at a strip club all week."

Without another word, he walked down the small set of stairs.

I shot a line up to the roof and when he looked back, I was gone.

^V^

In what my mother called true teenage style, I balanced the new cell phone I had gotten for my birthday between my ear and my shoulder as I carefully chopped strawberries into tiny pieces. At the same time, Taffy sat on my foot, quietly begging for scraps while I managed to itch my nose with the back of my hand.

All the while talking to Alfred.

It was hard to believe he had been gone for only a month and half and that another ten and a half months would pass before I would see him again. Even though we wrote to one another each week, I had finally convinced him to use his satellite phone at least one a month to talk. Just as when he had still been at Wayne Manor, he filled conversations with advice on how to handle problems with friends and family. And my father.

Since the Joker had escaped there had been a noticeable change in the Family. Tim, who was always so carefree and happy, rarely allowed himself a moment's peace. I hadn't really noticed it until I had stayed with Cass one afternoon while Mom took Nathan to a doctor's appointment. Where Cass and I made quesadillas and watched a movie, Tim had been in the office, trying to distract himself with work from the firm that he had neglected. When I asked Cass if he was okay, she had shrugged, "Robbie's in there offering support… and entertainment."

It had been hard to tell whether Dick and Barbara were upset over the fact that the Joker was on the loose or if they were simply distracted with raising Ethan. Whenever we visited the Clocktower or the rare event they came up to the Manor, Dick seemed his happy, silly self and Barbara was all smiles, most of them real. I guessed that they couldn't sulk and dwell on evil clowns with a giggling baby living with them

Unfortunately, no matter how many smiles Nathan and I offered, Dad was all sulk and dwell.

Luckily, I kept busy with school and riding and friends and gymnastics so that I could pretend everything was normal. Nathan had also picked up his first extracurricular activity: indoor Junior PeeWee football. He practiced twice a week on the field I once played indoor soccer on when I was his age. In the fall, he would be eligible to compete on the Junior PeeWee team, of which already had him battling uncontrollable excitement. Mom and I had attended every one of his practices, cheering him on in his miniaturized football gear and helmet as he learned the rules and plays of the game.

Dad had been to the tail end of three practices.

Alone in the kitchen, I spoke into the phone, "I think he's been leaving at night."

"Oh, and for what reason?" Alfred asked.

I swept the tiny chunks of strawberries into a glass bowl before starting, "Well…"

"It is not in my place to report you if obtaining said information has been at the result of forbidden activities."

As a smile crept onto my lips, I wiped my hands before finally taking the phone into my hand, "I've gone into the Cave… at night. Only a couple times, though. And he's not there… not anywhere. And I know he's not in the house…"

"Have you discussed this with Master Timothy, or Master Dick?"

"No… I want to be sure… I don't want to get him in trouble."

"And what if he is acting under their guidance?"

I paused as I began combining the strawberries with the pancake batter I had prepared earlier, "Hmm, maybe… But he would have told Mom and… me. And I don't even think they'd ask him after what happened."

"True, but perhaps they have found a role for him that would involve… fewer explosives."

"Fewer explosives, that's no fun… and Dad's all about having _fun_." I sighed before changing the subject, "How's Leslie?"

"Busy but content."

I suddenly wondered if Dad was secretly enjoying his return to his former lifestyle.

As I tested the cast iron griddle that had been warming on the stove top, I spoke while I carefully poured batter for the first pancake of the morning, "That's good… Did you get Nathan's drawing?"

He laughed quietly before replying, "I did indeed. I may run out of wall space at the rate he is producing such fine pieces of art."

Nathan had decided to draw Alfred different African animals with each letter he scribbled. That week it had been an meerkat, notably inspired by the fact that he had watched The Lion King at school the week before. Alfred saved each of our letters and had taken to hanging the drawings he received in the small bungalow he shared with Leslie in addition to three nurses and two doctors. When he first explained it to me, I asked him to compare its size to a few of the rooms in Wayne Manor.

I couldn't help but drop my jaw when he had replied that the entire structure would fit inside the informal dining room.

Not a moment later, Mom walked in, casually dressed for the day in dark boot leg cut jeans and a fitted pink and white striped blouse. She smiled and nodded before pouring herself coffee. I was about to ask Alfred if he wanted to talk to her but he suddenly announced, "I am afraid I must be off… perhaps we can resume our chat tomorrow?"

"It's a date."

After we said our good-bye's, I hung up and returned the phone to my pants pocket, all the while keeping a keen eye on the pancakes. As she stirred in sugar, Mom asked, "How's the old man?"

I nodded, "Good… he's going to call tomorrow when it's less busy there… that way he can talk to everyone." After I flipped the pancakes, I continued, "Is Nate up yet?"

She shook her head, "Snoring away. Guess we had him up too late last night."

We had stayed up the night before watching movies in the den. Nathan had started a popcorn fight and even though Mom and I joined forces, he managed to win after we ran out of kernels. Picking up afterwards had been a pain but it had been well worth seeing Mom wearing an empty bowl on her head as a helmet, crying out, "Take cover!"

I didn't need to ask where Dad was.

Mom took a careful sip before offering, "Anything I can do?"

I shrugged, "I haven't made the whipped cream yet.."

We worked in near silence for another twenty minutes, with Mom at the stove top pouring and flipping pancakes while I went to work with the mixer. Nathan arrived in the kitchen wearing his Twister game pajamas. He shuffled in rubbing his eyes but when I told him I had left the most important part of preparing breakfast for him, he came to life and leapt onto a stool at the island counter.

As Mom helped him with the over-sized heart shaped cookie cutter and pancakes, I set the kitchen nook table for three and put another setting on a serving tray. I arranged four of the shaped pancakes on the plate with their points touching in the middle. I then dressed the center with a dollop of whipped cream and a few slivers of strawberries. After pouring a fresh cup of coffee, I put it on the tray and began to carry it out of the kitchen.

Mom stopped me just as I approached the door, "Don't be long, kiddo, I'm not sure I can keep the wild child from eating your breakfast."

I smiled back at her over my shoulder before passing into the hallway. Once I made my way to the study, I set the tray down on an end table beside one of the big leather chairs before walking to the grandfather clock. At first, Dad had been adamant that I would not know how to activate the Cave entrance but not a month after I had learned the truth, I had brought up the fact that in an emergency, the Cave was the safest place in the house.

He had grunted in response before growling, "Follow me."

Once the time was changed to 10:20, it unlocked itself and moved on hidden hinges. I backtracked, grabbed the tray and passed through before the entrance sealed itself shut once more.

Even though I had walked down the stone steps countless times, I still couldn't help but stare. The main floor of the Cave was lit by only the auxiliary lights, rendering most of it in shadow. As quietly as possible, I crossed in darkness, heading towards the computer bay where Dad had practically been living since the Joker escaped. Mom had explained that even though he was no longer Batman, his experience with hunting down the Joker was the best chance Tim, Dick and Cass had at doing the same.

Dick had joked a few weeks ago that it was like having two Oracles, one in each ear.

I was surprised to see the chair empty, considering the screen was inundated with windows and files. As I set the tray down on the work counter, I scanned over them, recognizing many of them to be GCPD criminal profiles and mug shots.

"Kitten?"

I jumped at the sound of Dad's voice echoing in the Cave. It took a moment to find him in the darkness, approaching from what I had dubbed the Bat-locker room, but Dad just called it the showers. He was wearing a park of dark stone washed jeans and loafers but had yet to put a shirt on. As he made his way towards me, he pulled on a dark blue dress shirt , rolling the sleeves before beginning to button up. Once he was in the full light of the monitor, I smirked to see he had finally shaved off of all of the stubble he had allowed to grow.

"I made breakfast," I pointed to the covered plate on the tray.

"Thank you," he leaned in and kissed my cheek before taking the coffee, leaving the plate.

"Strawberry pancakes," I added.

He glanced at me as he took a seat, "I'll eat, but first… caffeine."

As he eyes went to the monitor, mine kept their aim at him. I had never been able to see him as Batman and with Tim in the cowl, I had decided this was going to be as close to it as I would get. He was obviously stressed but there was this strange clarity about him, especially when he explained what he was working on. I wasn't sure if was just spending time with him in the Cave or finally seeing him do what he did best, but it was all that I wanted to do. During school, I found it hard to stay focused and during gymnastics practice or time working with Cass I always seemed to work harder and push myself farther.

Mom said it was official, I was truly my father's daughter.

Without being asked, Dad alternated explaining what he had been working on with taking sips of coffee. I tried to absorb every bit of information and every detail as he tried to make order out of the chaos of information before us.

"So what do the cards mean?"

He sighed before replying, "Hard to say… could be a false lead, could be he's selecting recruits… could be he's just trying to distract us from the bigger picture."

"He's not okay, yet… right?" I asked as I pushed the tray in front of him.

"Subtle," he smirked before saying, "It's possible… but not probable…"

After being in the coma as a means of imprisonment, Dad had originally projected it would be at least two to three months before the Joker was physically able to return. Unfortunately, the doctor that he and Harley Quinn had kidnapped was still missing and it was uncertain if he was being kept to help rehabilitate the murderer or if he was even alive at all.

I found myself studying the faces of the men that had received Joker cards when Dad questioned, "Why hearts?"

"What?" I asked. He pointed to the heart-shaped pancakes, and I stared at him, "Dad… seriously?"

His face could not have been more serious.

"It's Valentine's day."

The serious look suddenly vanished as surprise took him over, "Oh no…"

"Oh yes," I shook my head before offering, "I'll distract Mom if you want to run out quick to get her flowers."

He abruptly rose from his seat, leaving behind his work and his uneaten breakfast. I was quick to follow him towards the stairs, trying to listen as he muttered to himself. When we reached the ground floor of the Manor, he paused and said, "If… if something happens to me, I want you to know how much I love you."

"Mom won't kill you, Dad.," I grinned up at him, "I'll protect you."

^V^

I woke to a tongue caressing my neck.

"You need better mouthwash," I mumbled before pushing him away.

The tongue remained persistent as it traveled up my neck to just behind my ear.

"Stop… Tim…"

"Stop what?"

My eyes opened to see he was standing in the doorway with a brown paper bag and two Styrofoam cups in his hands. When I followed his gaze to my left, I suddenly realized why the tongue had been accompanied with such bad breath.

"Robbie, off…" I pointed to the floor and after wagging his nub of a tail apologetically, he slowly climbed off of the bed before finding his down dog pillow. "So gross. He licks his butt…"

Tim sat on the bed beside me, setting the coffee on the night stand, "Well… I don't lick my butt."

I stared at him for a minute before offering, "Well… come here then."

He set the bag on the night stand before leaning over me, resting his weight on his hands as they positioned themselves on either side of me. "Well… that depends… what mouthwash do you use?"

"Same as you."

"Ah but I have used it in the last hour where it's been, what, a month for you?"

I went to slap him but he blocked it before arranging his body on mine, pinning my arms down with his hands. He then allowed his full weight down on me, despite my protesting laughter and half-hearted kicks.

"I'm sorry, it's been two weeks. How silly of me to forget," he shook his head as a grin spread over his face.

A grin that I had missed in these last few weeks.

He kissed my lips, still holding onto his grin, "Hmmm, I think I need to explore this matter further… get all the facts on the case."

I laughed after he kissed me again, "What case?"

Tim paused before declaring, "Should Cass, like Robbie… use a better mouthwash?"

Before I could try to escape his hold and take my revenge, his lips found mine, this time not breaking away. He had little to do in terms of undressing me considering I was wearing a three-quarter sleeve black cotton shirt and a pair of matching shorts. I on the other hand had to work through belted jeans, a wrinkled button up shirt over a navy tee and an undershirt.

I couldn't help but laugh when he shivered and said, "Brr…"

"Cold?"

"Yeah… but I think we can fix that."

We had gone to bed a little after four in the morning, tired and quiet after another tedious night of touring the city. After washing up and changing for the night, we had fallen asleep quickly, with Robbie snoring away at our feet. We had both decided that for our Valentine's day gift to one another was to not do anything the next day aside from eating, sleeping and watching movies. And patrols.

A normal day.

While we could still have one.

When the coffee was long cold, we were plenty warm. Tim ran out to get water and plates for our lunch in bed. While he was gone, I fixed the blankets, picked up two of the pillows that had somehow landed on the floor and reached for the paper bag. Just as he returned, he said, "They had the Duet Magnifique special so I got halves of the chicken salad croissant, turkey bistro, French dip and croque monsieur."

As he got back under the covers I claimed the croque monsieur and turkey bistro knowing the French dip was his favorite. We ate in near silence, minus the faint whines and grumbles Robbie was trying to contain as he begged from his bed.

As I drained the last of my water and finished my last bite of turkey, Tim asked, "Theme?"

"Bond?"

He shrugged, "Not really in a Bond mood."

"What?"

"I know, it sounds strange but-."

"No, what else then?" I asked.

We mentally reviewed our DVD and Blu-Ray collection and finally decided on the Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy. After losing to two consecutive rounds of Thumb War, I rose from bed and ran downstairs to the den to retrieve the movies. After running back up the stairs and down the hall, I paused at the doorway and leaned against the frame, "Captain Barbossa, I am here to negotiate the cessation of hostilities against-. Hey, no working!"

Tim looked up from the laptop he had frantically been typing on. He stammered, and I knew it was because I had caught him not because I was standing nude before him, "I…. I was just… reviewing-."

I shook my head as I crossed my arms over my chest.

He closed the laptop promptly and set it back on the his night table, "I'm sorry… I'm here now."

"Promise?"

He nodded.

We made it through the first two movies before finding ourselves restless. It didn't take long for the both of us to decide that if we jogged at a normal speed through the park as a couple, it would fall under the "normal" category, especially if we took Robbie with us. We changed into Lycra pants and shirts before dressing Robbie in his leather leash and collar. After stretching in the atrium, we set out at a walk, letting Robbie get into the groove before starting into a light jog once we reached the park.

Forty minutes later, just as we were about to call it quit, Tim's cell began buzzing from his pocket. He paused as he retrieved it and I smiled when Robbie cocked his head at the ring tone. Instead of listening in on his conversation, I packed up a few snowballs and threw them for the Boxer to catch.

Just as he was about to catch his tenth snowball, Tim approached, "Up for dinner?"

"Hi, I'm Cass, have we met?"

He snickered before explaining, "That was Selina, she said Mattie would be honored if we attended dinner tonight. I guess Dick, Barbara and Ethan are there visiting now and she decided the whole Family might as well come up."

"But what about At World's End?" I whined.

"You've seen it how many times?"

I shrugged before quoting the film's opening line."… In order to affect a timely halt to deteriorating conditions, and to ensure the common good, a state of emergency is declared for these territories by decree of Lord Cutler Beckett, duly appointed representative of His Majesty, the King. By decree, according to martial law-."

"… My point exactly. So, Selina said dinner was at seven and it's," he paused to glance at his watch, "Six-fifteen…"

We looked at either for a fraction of a second before taking off in a dead run towards the Townhouse. With Robbie bounding beside me, I took a sharp left and leapt over a snow bank that had iced over the last week. Tim spotted my change of course and pushed into the run harder.

Despite our efforts to race each other, we arrived at the front steps at the same time.

Rather than shower together, I offered to feed Robbie and pick up after our day in bed while he washed up first. After picking out something to wear for after I showered, I sat on the bed and opened the laptop.

After Dick had visited the Royal Flush club the night before, Tim and I had met across from the Clocktower. He had reported that he had managed to get a bit of information from an informant he had run into outside of the club.

Tim had nodded before inquiring, "Reliable?"

He had laughed, "You could say so," before telling us it had been Bruce.

Tim had been speechless. I had simply nodded.

Nightwing had continued his explanation, "He knows about the Joker cards. Wanted to get a little more insight on it."

"I bet," Tim had grumbled, probably more upset over the fact that I hadn't known about Bruce going undercover rather than the fact that he knew about the con's carrying cards before him.

The last document that had been opened had nothing to do with the Joker, or Bruce or Batman.

It had been a word document with only a few lines written under the title **Wedding Ideas**.

I smiled as I scanned through the list, italicizing my three favorites: _Battle on a pirate ship (maelstrom? Kraken?), Russian Space Station (in Russian?) _and _Starbucks (complimentary lattes?)_.

I then added another:_ Sea World (with sea otters_?)

^V^

Considering that my daughter had prepared breakfast, lunch and a dinner for the entire Family, I had ordered her to enjoy dessert and entertain guests rather than to clean up the dining room and kitchen.

I had finished washing most of dishes when I heard footsteps approach from behind me. Without looking up from the sink, I listened as he carefully set a stack of dessert plates on the counter top, "I think that's the last them."

"… Thank you," I replied softly as I reached for them.

He reached towards me and I waited to feel his hand on me but was surprised when he simply selected a towel off of the iron rack and began to dry dishes I had already washed.

Wash and dry, just as we had during his year suffering from amnesia.

I smiled as I thought to myself, Minus the bubble fight.

As we reached the end of our chore, Bruce cleared his throat and leaned against the counter, "Was Mattie still going to the movies tonight?"

As I shut the water off, I replied, "No, I told her I would take her and Katarina tomorrow afternoon."

"Ah." He waited a beat for asking, "Are you sure you're not mad at me?"

Since he had surfaced from the Cave that morning, he had been determined to get an admission of anger from me, one I was unable to give him simply because I wasn't upset. I had tried to brush his sincere apologies aside and eventually took to accepting them gracefully. I had even gone as far as trying to reassure him that it wasn't a big deal but my words fell on deaf ears.

Finally, just before Dick and Barbara had arrived with Ethan, Bruce had cornered me in the bedroom, asking "Selina… if you're upset, I understand-."

I had been staring at two dress I had selected from the closet, still undecided as to what I would wear for dinner. As I slowly looked up, I simply asked, "Gucci or Versace?"

He had stared at me before glancing down and saying, "Gucci."

I picked up the Versace dress, a steel gray knee length silk chiffon, and returned it to the closet, "I'll wear this one when you take me to dinner tomorrow night."

After that, he stopped asking.

I reached out and dried my hands as he held onto the towel, "Do you want me to be mad at you?"

"… No."

"Then shut up," I stood on my toes and kissed his lips softly before heading towards the door. Just as I took the first step into the hall, Bruce had caught up and took my hand into his.

Since the Joker had escaped, I had seen Bruce not much more than a few hours a day, most of which was when he was sleeping beside me. That was if he even made it to bed. His typical schedule involved staying in the Cave from the moment he returned from work, if he had even gone, occasionally making it up for the tail end of dinner before heading back downstairs. At first, I had checked in with him in the evening, bringing him coffee and often a plate of the dinner he had missed.

After a few days of seeing empty coffee mugs and half full plates, I gave the task to Mattie.

It wasn't that I didn't want to make sure he was eating, it was more that I would much rather have Mattie spend time with her father, even if it was simply standing at his side watching him attack the keyboard unmercifully.

Over the last few weeks, I had found that Mattie's trips downstairs lasted most of the evening, even approaching her nine-thirty bedtime on most nights. Not wanting to pry, I had snuck down one evening, shocked not to find them at the computer, trying to fight crime through cyber space. Instead, Mattie was on the balance beam in the Cave's training bay, showing her father her latest routine from gymnastics practice.

I had left them with a smile on my face after hearing Bruce say, "Bravo, kitten."

When we entered the den, we found that Dick and Barbara had packed up their son's belongings and were making their rounds to say good-bye. Not unexpected considering it was approaching eight and the little guy had been busy since three that afternoon. As Barbara double checked the diaper bag, she muttered she was missing a bib and excused herself to the dining room to retrieve it.

Dick approached, the tired boy wiggling in his arms, "Say good night, Ethan."

I leaned in and kissed both of his cheeks, pleased to see his frown soften into a tiny smile. Dick shifted his hold on Ethan so that he faced us, "Say bye-bye to Papa."

I glanced up at Bruce to see a half-smile had formed on his face. With an ease that never ceased to amaze me, Bruce took the baby from his son, supporting him with an arm under his diapered bottom and a hand on his side.

"Bye-bye," Bruce said, as he shared a moment of eye contact with the boy. Ethan's smile grew and he reached out and latched onto Bruce's lower lip before moving to grasp his nose. When he withdrew his hand, Bruce leaned in and touched his nose to Ethan's. "Bye- bye."

Finally Ethan complied, "Buh-buh."

He only had a few "words" in his vocabulary, including buh-buh for bye-bye, pull for please and of course mama and dada. Now that he had settled into his new family, he spent a great deal of his time trying to communicate in his rambled language. Thankfully, whenever Dick and Barbara had made it up to visit with him in the last few weeks, Bruce had a hard time passing up spending time with his grandson.

Dark Knight kryptonite clad in Osh'Kosh Bagosh.

Bruce offered to see them out and after I kissed Ethan again, I watched them head into the hall, hearing the little boy babbling long after they were out of sight. Before I could head further into the den, Nathan came up and hugged my legs, "Mommy, you-ah my Valentine."

I leaned over and kissed his head, "And you are mine."

He grinned, showing the gap where he had lost his first tooth earlier that week , and ran back to the couch where his sister was sitting across from Tim and Cass. I joined them on the couch and asked as Nathan moved to sit closer to me, "So, big plans tonight?"

Tim shook his head, "Not really. Kind of spent the day in bed watching movies… so we're not too ambitious… at least not enough to get into trouble. What about you? Hot party, Mattie?"

She smirked as she searched through the small glass dish she had set out earlier that was half-filled with candy hearts, "Nah… We're going out tomorrow, right Mom?"

I nodded, "And you," I paused to tickle Nathan's neck, "Get to hang out with Dad for the afternoon."

He looked up at me and asked, "What a-h we doing?"

"It's a secret. And a surprise."

Nathan then said, "Hmmm…" before slipping off of the couch slowly and taking off in a dead run out of the room.

Tim laughed out loud, "Innate investigator, eh?"

Mattie smirked, "He watched Blue's Clues with Ethan all afternoon… he thinks he's a detective."

"Well, we'll have to put him on retainer, given he can find out what Bruce's secret surprise is," Tim commented as he rose to his feet.

"What if I can find out first?" Mattie said suddenly. And seriously.

The room was silent until I cleared my throat, "Well, Mattie why don't you start by finding your brother, tell him to come say his good-bye's." I watched as she winked at Tim before heading out of the room.

"That was… scary," Tim let out a long breath of air.

"And it's only the beginning," I said before telling him how much time she had been spending with Bruce of late.

Tim nodded, "And to think I figured he was holed up in the Cave by himself these last few weeks… Guess she's far better company than the bats."

"Less messy at least," Cass commented with a slight smirk.

By the time we navigated the corridor to the main atrium, Mattie managed to corral her younger brother and both were waiting beside Bruce. Nathan had his arms wrapped around one of Bruce's legs and was repeatedly asking what the secret surprise was. As we approached, Bruce looked to me, confusion plastered on his face.

I intervened after realizing my husband had no clue that there was supposed to be a secret surprise, "Nate, if Daddy tells you it won't be a surprise."

"That's right, tiger" Bruce added, still clueless.

After another pleading look to both of us, Nathan relented and went about hugging and saying good-bye to Tim and Cass and I smiled as I overheard him ask each of them if they knew. They shook their heads and told him to have fun with his father the next day.

Once they had headed out, Mattie asked, "Can I call Piper?"

Bruce asked instinctively, "For what?"

Mattie shrugged, "Because."

Before Bruce could continue his interrogation, I said, "Sure, kiddo, but not too late. And you," I touched my son's nose with a pointer finger, "Go pick out some pajamas, Dad and I will be up in a bit."

Nathan nodded before touching Mattie's hand as he ran passed her, "Tag! You-uh it!"

As they both took off to the rear of the house, Nathan to the stairs and Mattie towards the elevator, Bruce leaned towards me and whispered, "What's the secret surprise?"

"That's for you to figure out, detective."

"Mrrow," he replied.

^V ^

I cleared my throat and Tim Bryce promptly knocked over a can of Coke Zero as he spun around in his desk chair.

Thankfully, my face was in shadow or else he would have seen a fraction of a smirk on my lips.

"Some guard dog," Tim sighed as he began mopping up the mess with a handful of tissues. He added, "Probably has his big, hairy German butt sleeping in bed with my wife…"

I had only visited him a handful of times since he had invested in getting a retired police dog. Since it had been me that had suggested it to him in the first place, I had prepared myself with Milk Bones. The first time I snuck in after Kaufman joined the Bryce family, he had trotted right up to me, the hair standing up on his neck and hips as he let out a low growl.

With the firm command of "Platz," the dog hesitated and when I said it again, he slowly reclined. I then gave him two handfuls of treats and hoped it would be enough of a bribe to allow me a few moments with his owner. After following the same routine a half of a dozen times, Kauf had taken to waiting at the upstairs window I entered through, laying down and drooling.

That night, I had Beggin Strips.

"Well, dare I ask if you have anything?" Tim finally asked as he tossed mounds of sodden tissues in the wicker trash can beside his desk.

I reached under my cape and retrieved one of the Joker cards I had found earlier that week, secured in a plastic bag. I tossed it onto his now dry desk along with a printout of the criminal record belonging to the perp who had been holding the card.

He examined the card closely before skimming through the papers, "Friend of yours?"

"He is now."

I had run into one David Hill five days earlier after catching him stalking a potential mugging victim. Just as he had reached into his coat for a weapon, I had jumped down on top of him before retracting the grapple gun and sending both of us skyward. With my hand clenched over his mouth, his scream was nothing more than a muffled moan.

After we had landed on the roof, he tried to scramble to his feet but I had latched onto one of his wrists and when his arm went taught, he involuntarily spun around to face me. Without letting go of his arm, I had kicked him twice in the stomach and once in the back of the head. As he had stumbled forward, I had stepped in front of him and allowed him to crash into my chest face first. When he had fallen backwards, I finally let go of him.

While he had rolled and moaned on the roof, curling up into a fetal position, I had searched his jacket and found the switchblade he had no doubt been reaching for as well as a near empty pack of cigarettes. In his pants pocket, he had a brown leather wallet that had contained thirty dollars, an expired driver's license and a Joker card.

As I had crouched down over his limp body, I gripped his jacket collar in one hand and held the card above his face in the other, "Where did you get this?"

He had begun to tremble, "I… I…"

"Where?" I had growled, forcing my hand around his throat.

After being deprived of oxygen for thirty seconds, he finally had gasped, "Royal Flush," before passing out.

I relayed as much to Bryce and then proceeded to inform him that I had come across six other cons that had also Joker cards in their possession. When he asked for their names, I tossed another set of printouts on his desk.

A smile came over his face, "You are resourceful, I'll give you that… What does it mean?"

Although I had intended to talk to Bruce about the Joker cards after dinner, I had decided not to and at the time I couldn't say why. Unfortunately, I hadn't been up to see him in nearly two weeks and had actually expected to find him with heavy stubble and tired eyes. Instead, he had been smiling through most of dinner with a clean shaven jaw and a keen gaze.

Certainly not the face of a man who was spending his nights hunting down a homicidal clown.

"It means he's making the first move," I replied quietly.

"By building an army of Blackgate Alum… I've spent the last month and a half pouring over his files… He left cards on victims and at crime scenes, I don't recall anything like this."

I wanted to tell him that there was no amount of reading that would prepare him for facing the Joker but instead I simply said, "He always has something up his sleeve."

Bryce offered a quick smirk before skimming through the six sets of records. I took a moment to look him over, interested that he looked more haggard than either Bruce or myself. Having already visited Kelsey earlier that evening, it was easy to decide that amongst us, Bruce had looked the best that evening.

Or at least he had been the last one to shave.

He suddenly consulted his wristwatch and sighed, "Damn, I suppose I better quit now… or Dana will find herself a new Valentine," he turned to look up at me, "I suppose you have someone waiting as well." I didn't so much as flinch and Tim added, "Or not."

When he looked back to the files, I silently made my way out of the room, listening intently as he said, "Well, at least all Dana will do is make me sleep on the couch… maybe even the dog bed but who knows what kung fu you'll have to face…"

I spent the better part of the next two hours touring the city, alternating between the cycle and grapple. Nightwing had contacted me a little after three saying that the west end of the city had been cleared and that he was calling it a night so he could rest up for a six in the morning bottle feeding. I even checked in with Batgirl who had been touring the southern end of the city. She said she would meet me back at home after she checked the boardwalk.

After speaking with her, I contacted Oracle and updated her about my visits with Kelsey and Bryce. She had joked, "Did he give you any candy? A card, at least?"

"Funny," I had growled before closing the connection.

I made it to the Sat-Cave at a little before four, taking less than fifteen minutes to shower and changed before sitting at the computer. Although I had been tempted to make coffee in the small commissary, I knew I would end up working well passed dawn.

Once I was nearly through logs, a communication signal popped up and although I expected Barbara's face on the display, I smiled when Bruce's form appeared. I sat back in my chair and said, "Good morning."

He nodded curtly before replying, "Far too early for it to be any good… Barbara said you presented the cards to the commissioner?"

"Yeah, and Bryce… First real lead we've come across, they seemed pretty pleased even though we still have no clue what they mean."

Bruce looked down before saying, "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner."

I couldn't help but smile, "It's okay… I just wish I had seen you undercover, Dick said you looked like a bearded Val Kilmer."

He grunted to himself before replying, "Not exactly what I was going for… I've sent you what I've been able to compile… Not much but-."

I interrupted him, "An insider's view is always better than an outsider's… Someone told me that once, can't seem to remember who."

For a fraction of a second, Bruce sported his trademark half-smirk. When it faded, he spoke, "It's a start, Timothy."

Nodding, I said, "But the question is, the start to what?"

Bruce took a moment to reply, "I'm sure you'll find out… one way or another," before closing the connection.

Still staring at the monitor, I commented to myself, "We'll all find out."

When I finally made it home, Cass and Robbie were sound asleep in bed and the gift candy heart box Mattie had given us was sitting on my bedside table. After sitting carefully on my side of the bed, I skimmed the chocolates before finding two coconut filled ones. Still chewing, I reclined next to Cass and pulled the covers over me, being sure not to disturb either one of the sleeping forms beside me.

Just as I was about to sneak another candy out of the box, Cass rolled over to face me and even in the darkness of the bedroom I could see her eyes were clear and bright. With a smirk, I leaned in and kissed her cheek before kissing her lips.

"Coconut… much better than dog butt," she commented.

I loved her.

"Sea World, hunh?" I asked quietly.

She didn't seem the slightest bit confused and replied instantly, "Seas otters are cute, swim on their backs, could bring us rings."

"True… But I think I prefer outer space… especially if Russians are involved."

We joked for quite a while, lying in bed and coming up with ridiculous wedding ideas. In all seriousness, we wanted something simple and painless, no where near the extravagance that both Bruce and Selina as well as Dick and Barbara had undertaken. With Jim and Maureen getting married later that summer, we had decided they would take care of the normal wedding quota, leaving us to do something random.

So far, we had been able to keep the engagement a secret, both deciding that if Dick and Barbara could keep their adopting a secret for ten months that we would be able to surpass them and make it a year. Even though I had proposed without a ring, I had offered to get her one but Cass had made the valid point, "No use for it… why have it?"

In place the ceremonial diamond ring, I hadn't gotten her a case of candy Ring Pops. After I had knelt before her and adorned her ring finger with a blue raspberry flavored one, she had taken a big lick before responding, "Now these… these are useful."

I really loved her.

^V^

Despite the fact that I had planned on sleeping in for the first time since the beginning of the year, I found myself waking at half passed seven, although not voluntarily.

I had fallen asleep on my back and as I looked up, I found my son sitting on my torso, tapping the middle of my bare chest with a pointer finger. When he realized my eyes were open, he asked, "Is it time for the sec-wet suh-pwise?" When I shook my head, he pouted for a minute then looked directly into my eyes, "Now?"

"No," I said softly, not wanting to wake Selina, "Not until this afternoon."

"Aftahnoon?" he gasped.

"Afternoon, so why don't you go back to-."

Before I could finish, he had already rolled off of me and jumped off of the bed, his little feet flying as he ran across the room and into the hallway. When two silent minutes had passed, I decided there was more sleep to bed had and I drew a slow, relaxing breath.

Just as my eyes closed, Nathan's footsteps entered the room once more, although rather than climbing onto the bed, he paused at my bedside table and began playing with the alarm clock. I watched on silently as he pressed the buttons carefully until he managed to change the time to 12:01.

He then picked up the clock and said, "It's aftah noon, Daddy."

Smart boy.

Knowing there was little chance he would settle back in for the morning, I decided to get up as well. Even though Selina had no contact with my body, as I rose from the bed she shifted under the covers and mumbled something that might have been my name. I leaned over and kissed her brow before moving my pillow so it was next to her. Without hesitation, she hugged the pillow, her eyes never opening once.

After sending Nathan to his room to make his bed, a task he proudly performed but often forgot about, I washed up and changed into jeans and a gray wool sweater over a black turtleneck. By the time I made it to his room, his bed was made and he had managed to remove his pajama bottoms, leaving him in nothing but his underwear, a single red sock and a tee-shirt.

"Let's wash up, tiger, we have to go out and get breakfast."

As he brushed his teeth and combed his dark hair, I toured his walk-in closet and did my best at selecting something for him to wear. Although I didn't have the secret surprise planned in it's entirety, I had a general idea and wanted him to dress accordingly. Opting for comfort, I found him a pair of jeans, his black running shoes as well as a tee shirt and hooded sweatshirt.

I left his clothes out for him to dress while I made my way down the hall to check on his sister. After no answer from my curt knock, I closed my eyes and carefully opened the door and asked, "Mattie?"

When no reply came, I opened my eyes and saw her bed was made, with Taffy nesting in a white, orange and black ball on the pillows. Next to the slumbering cat, I spotted a crumpled purple Post-It note and flattened it before reading through the feline teeth marks: _In the study _J

Upon returning to the hall, Nathan emerged from his bedroom with his hood pulled up, hiding his face. As he walked by, I pulled it off of his head and he spun around and looked at me before pulling it back up with a stern explanation, "Bad hai-uh day."

"Ah," I commented as we began walking towards the stairs, "Could shave it all off for you, then it won't be bad."

"I'd be bald!" he exclaimed as he began trotting down the steps.

"I was bald, my hair grew back."

He paused at the second floor landing and looked up at me for a moment before saying, "It gwew back gway… I don't want gway hai-uh."

We continued and I subconsciously ran a hand through my hair, "It was gray long before then, tiger."

"Why?" he shot back his infamous response to anything.

"I guess… every gray hair is from something happening in your life."

He paused again and looked up at me, "Something… like suh-pwises?"

Without warning, I lifted him in the air and threw him over my shoulder, "How's that for a surprise?"

I held him captive as I ran down the last set of stairs finally releasing him once we were in the main hall, "Mattie's in the study, let's go see if she wants to come with us."

As her half-eaten note had indicated, we found Mattie in the study sitting at my desk as she read. I knocked on the open door and she looked up with a delayed smile coming to her lips, "Morning, Dad."

"Good morning, kitten… Been awake long?"

She shrugged and put her bookmark in place, "Not long."

Even without my keen eye for observation, I would have been able to see behind her lie. She was wearing a pair of fresh pajamas that had not seen a night's sleep. The bags under her eyes were nearly concealed with make up but there was nothing she could do about the fatigued red in her eyes. The bookmark in her book was a good three hundred pages ahead of where it had been the day before when I had last seen her reading it.

"Nathan, go get your coat, I'll be out front in a bit."

He tightened his hood so that only his eyes showed and took off into the hall.

"Not long?" I asked quietly as I leaned against the desk.

She brought her legs up and pulled them to her chest as she sat in the chair. After a slight shrug, she finally said, "Okay… a while."

"A while."

Mattie nodded and looked up at me, "I just… wanted to know… you know, what it's like to stay up, working all night."

I cleared my throat, trying to brush aside the fact that my behavior had once more impacted hers, "Not an ideal way to spend your weekend."

"I know… I don't know…" she looked at her bare feet for a moment before asking, "Dad?"

"Yes, kitten?"

"Can you get me a latte?"

By the time Nathan and I had returned from the bakery in Bristol, Selina and Mattie had both dressed for their day out. Our adventure to the bakery and coffee shop had yielded two white cardboard boxes of fruit tarts, brioche a tete, Danishes and napoleons. Mattie had already prepared sliced fruit for everyone as well as individual dishes of yogurt. She took the boxes with a smile and began arranging the pastries on two glass dishes.

I set a large cardboard next to her on the counter and said, "Venti caramel latte skim no foam."

She smiled with gratitude and held a raspberry filled puff pastry to my lips. I ate it in one bite and heard Selina say my name in a tone I heard her use most often when Dick was teaching our children bad habits.

It was the first time I had heard being directed at me.

We ate in the nook, sharing the first breakfast as a family in far too long. Afterwards, we split the family in half for the day. Mattie and Selina went to the stable so that our daughter could have her riding lesson before spending the afternoon with Katarina for lunch and a movie.

Nathan and I were off for our secret surprise.

After I had surfaced from the Cave the day before, Selina had informed me that although I had managed to find a way to spend time with my daughter for the last few weeks, I had not done the same for my son. Therefore, we would spend the entire afternoon together doing whatever made him smile.

Fair enough.

We started out the day at the Museum of Natural History where a new winter wildlife IMAX film was being featured. Sitting in a half-filled theatre, we were dead center before the sixty five foot tall screen as wolves, caribou and orcas came to life. Although it was hard to look away from the massive screen, I found my gaze drifting to my son's face, lost in sheer wonder.

With a smile.

From there, we toured some of the exhibits in the museum, spending quite a bit of time in the paleontology floor. As instructed by his mother, I used the camera she had given me to take his picture as he stood before a pair of raptors, a stegosaurus and a massive allosaurus.

With a smile.

While we made our way down the front steps on our way out, I suggested we grab a bite to eat as I helped him put his down vest on over his sweatshirt. He nodded and asked, "Can I pick?"

"Anything you want."

Another smile.

Thirty minutes later, we were sitting on red plastic coated stools at Five Guys Burgers and Fries. On the way over, he had admitted that Dick and Barbara had taken him and Mattie a number of times and his favorite thing on the menu was a hotdog with relish, onions and peppers with an ice cold root beer. I let him order for me and had to hide my shock when he said to the cashier, "A hambuhger with eve-wething."

While he enjoyed a hotdog with his favorite toppings, I force fed myself a medium well done burger with an array of condiments not to mention onions, pickles, green and jalapeno peppers, mushrooms, lettuce and tomatoes.

I spilled a dollop of A1 sauce on my shirt and Nathan grinned.

So far so good.

When we made it home around four that afternoon, I carried his sleeping form through the service entrance from the garage and straight upstairs to bed. He mumbled something as his chin rested on my shoulder and I patted his back, "You're welcome, tiger."

After helping him settle in for a nap, I checked both the master bedroom and Mattie's room before making my way downstairs. As I reached the ground floor, I retrieved my cell phone and called Selina. She answered on the third ring, "We're coming up the drive," before hanging up.

I went into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of cold water before finding a bottle of Bayer from the cabinet above the sink. After popping back three tablets, I drained the glass just as Selina and Mattie walked in.

Before I could greet them, Selina asked, "So?"

"So what?" I countered.

"What did you come up with for his surprise?" she replied.

"Secret surprise," Mattie corrected her.

With both of them looking at me impatiently, I simply shrugged and began to explain, "The thing about a secret is you can't tell anyone…"

Mattie rolled her eyes and made her way out of the kitchen as Selina said, "Please, he'll just tell me when he wakes up from his nap."

"Or will he?" I questioned with my face completely solemn.

"Fine, the kid's off the hook but…" she stepped towards me, pressing her body against mine as she whispered into my ear, "I have ways of making _you _talk."

^V^


	2. Now And Then: II

Title: Now And Then: II

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language, adult situations and violence

Summary: The Family starts to fracture as the search continues.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Quotes from Alice in Wonderland in the first POV are in italics. As a reminder, I have set Bruce Wayne's birthday as February 19, as listed on the DCU calendar.

A/N 2: Final POV includes brief graphic violence. After all, this is a Joker story.

^V^

As I descended cold, stone steps, I heard Jervis Tetch whimpering, "_If everyone minded their own business, the world would go around a great deal faster than it does_."

And then the sound of a body being slammed into a wall.

The whimpering continued, "_I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think: was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puz---_."

Another thud followed quickly by a small cry of pain.

Approaching the computer bay, I looked up to the display screen just in time see the digitized form of Jervis say, "_I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, Sir, because I'm not myself you see_…"

The Mad Hatter had a moment to flash a grin before Batman punched him square in the face.

The video, recorded from Batman's infrared lenses, had taken place the night Joker and Harley had escaped Arkham. The police interrogation had been a waste of time, with Kelsey and two detectives yelling at Jervis while he simply repeated, "_Curiouser and curiouser_."

After three hours, he had been returned to his cell with an appointment for a secondary interrogation first thing in the morning. With it being well passed light's out, Jervis had returned to a dark cell, ready to recline on his bed and no doubt dream of tea parties and floating grins.

Instead, he had been grabbed by his long, blond hair and thrown into his padded wall face first. The first words Jervis had been able to manage were, "_Twinkle, twinkle little bat, how I wonder what you're at_!"

From there it remained a one-way conversation with Batman using the concealment of the dark cell and deactivated security camera to pummel Jervis each time he spat forth lines from Alice and Wonderland. Given the man's obsession-compulsion and delusion issues, it was a good twenty minutes before Jervis took on a somewhat normal frame of mind.

"What… what is it that you want?" Jervis's voice came in a whisper.

Then it was Batman who was speaking in the prose of Lewis Carroll, "_Begin at the beginning, and go on till you come to the end. Then stop._"

Bruce was sitting forward in the single chair of the computer bay, his attention intently focused on the screen before him. I noticed that he had several other windows open on the bottom of the display, no doubt tracking changes in voice and tone in order to help detect lies. I paused behind him and looked up again to see Jervis's face, green from the infrared lenses, not to mention bloody and bruised.

Just as Jervis was about to make his grand confession about his part in the Joker's escape, Bruce paused the video and turned to face me, offering a slight smile of apology.

"So, I think I'm going to get you a new watch for your birthday."

He nodded before looking back at the screen. Shortly after we had put the kids to bed, he had headed down to "work out" and had promised me after a kiss on the cheek that he'd be back upstairs soon.

That had been five hours earlier.

Without being asked, Bruce began to explain, "I just… there's more here, I know it. I just can't find it. I've watched this every night since… re-read Alice in Wonderland a dozen times… There has to be something here."

"What's the definition of insanity again?" I joked as I leaned on the back of the chair, putting my lips to his ear, "Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result…"

He sighed quietly.

I then tried a different approach, "_Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it's getting_…"

He growled, "Selina."

Having garnered his attention, albeit in a negative sense, I stood upright and continued, "_A cat may look at a king, I've read that in some book but I can't remember where_…"

"That's not funny---."

"_I've often seen a cat without a grin; but a grin without a cat!_"

His glare could have melted iron.

When he redirected his gaze to the screen, I said, "Why is it that I have this strange feeling you're down here tonight for reasons other than hunting down a clown."

"Why else would I be down here?" he snapped as he reset the video, putting it on mute in order to study the body language.

I walked over and sat on the edge of the workbench that extended out from the base of the monitor, "Oh, I don't know, maybe because it's your birthday." When he flinched slightly, I sighed, "Please tell me you didn't forget it was---."

"I didn't forget."

"Then that _is _why you're down here."

He grunted and kept his eyes on the screen.

"I can round up some goons to take you hostage, one's with accents even."

The stoic look didn't so much as falter.

I crossed my legs and examined a tiny scratch Taffy had left on my knee when she had climbed up my leg the day before, "Sorry. Just trying to make things less dismal.

Bruce sighed again and finally sat back in the chair, the light coming off of the display showing every one of his forty-nine years, "No… Don't apologize." He brought his hands up and rubbed his face before running his fingers through his hair, "I'm just tired."

"Well, it is two in the morning…"

"No. I'm tired of this…" he gestured to the screen, "Tired of not being able to do anything. Tired of starting each day being exactly where we were the day before…"

Without a word, I slipped off of the bench and sat myself in his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck as I set my chin on his shoulder. When his arms snaked around my lower back, he continued, "Tired of seeing him win..."

"He's not going to win… Tim will find," I kissed his cheek before moving to look at him face to face, "You will find him."

He stared at me briefly before gazing upwards to the silent video flashing before him. The light flickered in a way that made his face appear white, causing the scars on his face and neck to stand out. As always, my eyes locked on to the small round scar on his forehead and I had to resist the urge to kiss it.

To make it all better.

"I have an idea," I said suddenly.

"Oh?"

"Let's forget having dinner tonight, let's just… get the hell out of here for the weekend, you and me."

"You know I can't do that."

I nodded, a smirk coming to my lips, "You can… And you will."

His left eye brow twitched before he spoke softly, "Why do I feel that you're about to draw blood."

"You will… Or I'll tell Alfred."

There were very few instances Bruce allowed himself to show fear. Even as he faced insurmountable odds, dozens of guns aimed at his head and mad men who wanted nothing more than to rip his organs out through his nose, he held his ground.

Over the years I had found that here were three things that drove true terror into his heart.

The first was the threat of having to be left alone with more than five children under the age of twelve at one time without a utility belt or any form of weaponry or knockout gas.

The second was his daughter attending any social function that may be without adult supervision, especially if the male teenaged species was in attendance.

The third was Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth.

"On second thought," Bruce replied after a moment of thought, "It would be good to clear my head, be able to get a new perspective on things."

^V^

"What did you get him?"

I ignored Nightwing and continued to focus my binoculars on the rear exit of the Ace of Spades pool hall.

He continued on his own accord, "We got him, well, I thought it was dumb but Babs thought it would be nice, you know… I guess it's for both of them… Couple's thing at a day spa. Should have given it to them for their anniversary but… Oh looky here."

We watched on as the door opened and a figure in a red and white leather coat stepped out, counting a wad of cash with a smile on his face.

Nightwing shifted slightly beside me and continued, "Figured they could spend time together, relax, get all zen and whatever. So they don't kill each other."

"Wouldn't time apart be more apt to prevent them from killing each other," I graveled as I stood and returned my binoculars to their compartment on my belt.

"Probably… but it's hard to feel murderous in a mud bath."

I looked over at him in as much amazement as I would dare show while wearing the cowl before looking back to the man below. After grasping the edges of my cape, I leapt, opting for a controlled free fall rather than wasting a grapple line on a mere four stories.

Especially when I had a red and white target to soften my fall.

The man let out a shrill cry that would have been better suited for a ten year old girl when I brought him down to the pavement. With bills floating in the air, I hefted him by the collar of his coat before swinging him into the exterior of the pool hall. I then lifted him once more before throwing him further into the alley, out of reach of the single light source above the door.

As he fell to the ground once more, I crouched over him and simply glared.

He looked to be in his late twenties with electric green eyes and closely cropped brown hair, somehow oddly familiar. Mouth gaped, his lower lip trembled and I caught a glimpse of a metal stud tongue piercing. Sifting through his pockets, I found a lighter, a subway express card and an expired condom. When I found his wallet, I found two debit cards, a movie theatre club card and finally, a Joker card.

It was when I looked at his driver's license that I realized why I had recognized him.

Eric Donavan. We had shared ten classes together in college and had even worked on a presentation together in Business Law about the legalities of trade secrets.

Mentally blocking the fact that we had joked about bringing in KFC buckets of chicken to help demonstrate the importance of protecting intellectual property, I growled at him, "I've been watching you, Donavan," a lie but it brought a whole new level of fear in his eyes.

"Wh-wh-what do you want?"

"The truth. And you have one chance to give it to me," I slowly leaned in, putting my face within inches of his, "I advise you not to waste it."

He gulped air and tried to control his trembling as he nodded.

Holding the Joker card between our faces, I demanded, "Where did you get this?"

Donavan's eyes darted briefly to the card then back to my face, "I… I heard some guys were getting them… I just… I thought maybe if I had one, too I…" he shrugged as he fought of hyperventilating, "I just wanted to be in on it…"

"In on what?" I snapped as I gripped his throat.

He yelped, "I swear, I don't know! I just brought it from home, I wanted to impress Anne… She-she works at the bar," he nodded to the pool hall.

I stared at him for a silent moment before releasing my grip on him and rising to my feet, towering over him as he sprawled out on the wet pavement, "You better pray that I don't find out otherwise." Without hesitation, I fired a grapple and disappeared from the alleyway.

The moment I returned to Nightwing's side, I said, "Follow him," as I bagged the Joker card.

"I thought you might want to, seeing how well you two got along," he replied softly.

I spun around to face him before snapping, "What's that supposed to mean? There's no room to play nice anymore."

Nightwing blinked, hesitating before saying, "I was kidding."

"Well don't."

He stared at me in disbelief before looking down at the alley, watching as Donavan knelt on the pavement picking up the money he had dropped. There was something about the look on his face that made me want to explain myself but before I could put aside the Bat for a moment, he growled, "Fine, I'll watch him."

I should have said something.

But I didn't.

At half passed four, I finally called it a night and made my way to the Sat-Cave. Nightwing had contacted me a little after three to report that Donavan had gone home, cried and fallen asleep on the couch in his apartment in the Bowery. Before I could ask for any other details, he had signed off.

Although I had done my best to not absorb all of Bruce's characteristics as Batman, in recent weeks I had regrettably grown more and more like him. Just as my mentor would have, I pushing, blaming and torturing myself for our lack of progress. Yelling at Dick had been nothing more than re-directing my anger and frustrations at him rather than at my own being. Thinking back more than a decade earlier to when Bruce and Dick had fought after in the Cave after Bruce had escaped from Blackgate, I rationalized that it would never come to that.

I wouldn't let it.

My big bro.

Damnit.

Rather than waste time changing, I simply pulled the cowl off before approaching the computer. Before I sat down, I took the card out of the evidence bag and placed it in the scanning tray. As the computer evaluated it for fingerprints, fibers and DNA, I logged on and was surprised to see that both Barbara and Bruce were had signed off. After accessing their activity accounts, I discovered that I had missed Barbara by fifteen minutes but that Bruce had signed off just after two in the morning.

Looking back over the last few weeks, he had been online most nights longer than I had patrolled.

Before I could begin to contemplate why, the computer announced, "Scan complete, matching fingerprints of left fore, left middle, left thumb, partial palm for Donavan, Eric Casey. Convicted of one count of assault with intention of robbery, one count of obstruction of justice and one count of armed robbery. Currently on parole after early release from Blackgate, serving three years of a five year---."

"Enough," I grumbled as Donavan's police record came on the screen. His mug shot made him look like he was in his thirties, with coarse stubble, a black eye and chaotically mused hair. Skimming the file, I discovered he had held up a drug store four years ago, making off with the cash from the register as well two plastic bags full of painkillers and prescription drugs. On his way out, the elderly gentleman that was working for the pharmacy as a part-time custodian and taken Eric out with a mop handle to the face.

Apparently he never started his own sports bar as he had dreamed of.

The dawn was nearly breaking as I made the walk home at half passed six. I had opted to shower and change at the Sat-Cave so that when I arrived home I would be able to crash. Cass had called a little after five wanting to know if she could eat the pizza I had left over from lunch. I had smiled softly and told her, "Only if you give the crust to Robbie."

When I walked through the front door, I kicked my shoes off and listened for any sign of life. Met with silence, I quietly walked into the kitchen after deciding a full stomach would make for better sleep. Rather than go about making eggs and bacon and other aromatic items that would have Cass and Robbie up in a heart beat, I settled for two bagels with cream cheese, an enormous orange from the basket Dad had sent us and bottle of Gatorade.

Meal in tow, I settled on the couch and turned the morning news on, lowering the volume before digging in. As I ate, I listened intently to the anchors as they drabbled on about the city's various problems, ranging from crime rates to the traffic caused by the bridge construction. As the broadcast came to as close, I realized it had been the first local news program to run without mentioning the Joker since his escape.

In fact, they had closed not with a warning and reminder to keep safe, but with, "And all of us here at News Channel Four would like to wish Bruce Wayne a very happy birthday."

Dick's question from earlier that evening suddenly came to mind and I spoke barely above a whisper but in the quiet house it seemed to echo loudly, "A painting."

Cass and I had a portrait done of a photo we had taken of Mattie pushing Nathan on the swings at the park in Bryanttown. Nathan had the biggest smile on his face while Mattie had reserved herself to one of her more trademark smirks. We had a black and white ten-by-thirteen framed print hanging on the wall in our den. Bruce had commented on it after picking Mattie up after one of her Saturday afternoons with Cass.

As I sat by myself, thinking about the smile that photograph brought to Bruce's face, I couldn't help but frown.

He had left the dark behind him with the cowl.

And given it to me.

^V^

"Where's Daddy?"

"… Dah-dah…"

"Where is he?"

I felt a tiny hands gently patting my comforter covered face.

Barbara continued to encourage our son, "Tell Daddy, it's time to wake up…"

The hands began patting harder as he giggled loudly.

Surrendering, I pulled the blankets down and looked up at Barbara and Ethan as they sat next to me in bed. Both were dressed for the day and the small smudge on Ethan's yellow tee-shirt said they had eaten as well.

I smiled brightly at him and he leaned forward, clunking his brow with mine.

"Uh-oh," I said as he sat up, a pout forming on his lips. Before he could overreact, I sat up and took him into my lap, kissing the top of his head. As he latched onto my fingers and began trying to the shake them, I looked to Barbara, "Good morning."

"Good afternoon."

My brow rose in surprise before I looked over my shoulder at the alarm clock proudly showing it to be one-thirty in the afternoon. Sitting back against the pillows, I sighed, "Guess I'm not going to work today."

"I called Will, told him you were pukey."

"Bleh," I said before looking down at Ethan, "Man, it's almost time for your nap and I'm just waking up."

"Uppie," he echoed as he began clapping his hands over top of mine.

As he entertained himself, I fought back a yawn, "Wonder if Tim even went in."

"He had a pretty late night. He backed up logs at six this morning."

"Over achiever," I grumbled before gently tracing Ethan's little shoulders with my free hand.

"Do I sense disgruntlement in your tone?"

Ethan looked up at me and said "Oooo."

I smiled and echoed him before looking to Barbara, "Nothing… just the big bad bat being big, bad and bat-like."

Barbara turned and began shifting herself off of the bed and into her chair, "To be fair, he's under a lot of stress…"

"We all are, Babs," I countered, "But we're keeping things in check, it seems as if he's ready to blow his top."

She didn't so much as look back at me before leaving the room.

"Daddy needs to learn to shut his mouth, Ethan," I said to him.

He reached up and touched my lips and said, "Uppie."

I carried him into the den where his hanging chair was securely attached to the archway between the den and the hallway, right across from the open kitchen. The second I placed him in the chair he began jumping, slapping his hands on the little padded arm rest that kept him upright. Listening to him laugh and coo, I proceeded into the den where Barbara was folding laundry.

"Sorry, I'm just… he yelled at me last night… I know I shouldn't take it personally but… he looked and sounded just like Bruce and I… it was like I was back in green pixie boots and a yellow cape."

She looked up after folding a tiny pair of jeans, "I know about it… outside the pool hall on Brady."

Taken aback that Tim would have told her, I asked, "How?"

"Please," she rolled her eyes, "I could read the President's e-mail with my morning coffee if I wanted to, it's not much harder to get into the personal notes he leaves on activity logs."

I sat on the armrest of the couch and grabbed a handful of colorful infant socks and began matching them, "Well, what did he say?"

"He was disappointed in himself, for letting his temper get the best of him, even if it was just for snapping at you. He reasoned that it's not much of a jump from yelling to hitting."

"He said that?"

Babs glanced up at me and nodded, "That and he still doesn't understand why you used to think having a ponytail was cool."

When a smile broke on her face, I shook my head, "You are mean."

"And don't you forget it…" she paused for a moment before telling me, "So Selina called during your coma, I guess they're putting a kibosh on the birthday dinner thing tonight."

"What? They can't! Mattie was making those crazy pancetta stuffed pork cutlets that Alfred makes," I blurted out.

She put the folded clothes in a wicker basket before continuing, "She's still going to make them. I guess Selina convinced Bruce into a weekend getaway so we're going to go up and stay the weekend at the Manor to watch Mattie and Nathan."

"Phew, that was a close one, I spent all morning dreaming about those little heart attack inducing bits of meat," I tossed the little balls of socks into the basket as well before asking, "Wait, how in the wild world of sports did she con Bruce into leaving the city?"

She shrugged before looking passed me to see Ethan bouncing enthusiastically, "She said they had a nice chat last night and he figured it was a good way to clear his head and come back to work with a new outlook on things."

"Where are they going?"

Barbara replied, "She didn't say… I guess she's not telling him either. She said they were going to leave around six tonight so I'll pack bags this afternoon if you want to play Ethan Wrangler."

"Sounds like a plan… We should go nuts, have a huge party, invite half the universe, trash the joint… then blame it on Mattie and her teenaged minions." Barbara stared at me, her expression torn between shocked and appalled. I shrugged, "Come on, someone has to celebrate his birthday in style."

I showered and changed before taking charge of Ethan. While Barbara packed clothes and baby gear, Ethan and I played in the den. Warming up with stacking blocks and reading alphabet picture books, we moved on to crawling around on the floor and then practiced walking. Although his crawling was par for the course, he was still a bit unsteady upright and required help or something to hold onto.

As nap time approached, Ethan was exhausted and barely managed to eat a cup of peas and carrots. After cleaning him up and changing his diaper, I rocked and read to him in the nursery until he was lost in the world of night-night. I carefully set him in the crib beside his tiny stuffed duck named Quack-o before heading to the master bedroom.

Barbara was lying in bed, hacking away at her laptop, her reading glasses perched on the edge of her nose. I quietly sat on the bed beside her and read over her shoulder until she looked over at me, "Can I help you?"

"You're the only one that can," I smirked.

She reached over to her bedside table and retrieved a packet of papers. After skimming them, she rolled them up and smacked me square in the face, "Delivery guy will be here in a minute, cash is on the credenza."

"Delivery guy?" I asked as a smile crept over my face, "What kind of a delivery guy?"

"The kind that delivers."

"… You really are mean."

She leaned over and kissed me quickly but when she went to speak, the doorbell rang.

While I had been trying to keep Ethan awake long enough to finish the last few spoonfuls of steamed veggies, Barbara had ordered in Terra Mare, my favorite Mediterranean place. After paying the young Greek kid whom always seemed to be our delivery guy, I inhaled a bounty of aromas as I made my way to the kitchen.

Before Barbara made her way in as well, I had already opened the first carton to reveal two pairs of crab cakes dressed with their famous vodka sauce. I engulfed two of them before she entered the kitchen, "Figured you missed breakfast, second breakfast, elvenses and lunch… this should make up for it."

"Did you just compare me to a hobbit?" I asked as retrieved several more cartons from the white paper bag, "Because I assure you, my feet are no where near that hairy."

"You have the eating habits of a hobbit," she smirked as she put out two plates on the countertop before grabbing silverware from the drawer, "But your looks are more…"

"Elvin?" I grinned down at her.

"You really did think having long hair was cool, didn't you?"

"… Mean… So mean…" I retorted before looking at the last two crab cakes. I promptly licked both of them before looking back at her, "Those, are now mine."

She beckoned me closer and I surprised when she kissed the corner of my mouth, licking a spot of sauce off of my face, "That's mine," and she then kissed under my jaw, "And this is mine.

"I like this game," I smirked, "Everyone wins…. Except the crab cakes."

^V^

I sat on my parents bed, watching as Mom packed a suitcase and dress bag for Dad, neatly securing the outfits I had helped her pick out for him. It had taken less than twenty minutes to select his wardrobe for the weekend but it had taken us the better part of an hour to do the same for her.

"Do you need swimsuits?" I asked as she inserted a pair of black dress shoes into his suitcase.

Mom smiled, still amused that I was trying to figure out where they were going based on what was being packed and by what questions she would answer. So far I knew they were staying in the country, because they didn't need pass ports, but every detail I had garnered other than that had been pretty vague.

"I doubt we'll go swimming."

"Because it's cold where you're going, right?"

"Maybe… or we won't have time."

With a sigh of frustration, I fell back onto the bed and looked up at the ceiling, "Why can't you just tell me?"

"Why do you have to know?" she countered as she zipped up his bag.

"Because, I love you and I want to know where you are…"

She paused before saying, "Good try… You just want to know because I won't tell you, same as your father."

"It's not fair," I rolled over onto my side and propped my head up with my hand, "Nathan got a secret surprise and now Dad is getting one… When do I get one?"

"Christmas is coming," she said as she turned to close the closet doors.

"Mom, it's February."

"So?"

"I give up," I finally muttered before rolling off of the bed and shuffling out of their room. Just as I approached Nathan's room, Mom caught up with me. We both paused at the open doorway and glanced in to see Dad and Nathan coloring at his little pine table, but where my brother was seated at one of the tiny chairs, Dad was sitting on the floor.

"My boys… working so diligently," Mom said as she walked in.

Nathan didn't so much as look up but Dad glanced at her, "Packed?"

She nodded, "You mind carrying them down? When you're done coloring Kanga and Roo, that is." Dad glanced down at his half-colored sheet before nodding. Mom then looked back to me, "Want to help me set up the room for Dick and Barbara?"

I nodded eagerly, knowing it would only give me more time to figure out her plan.

Mom had picked Nathan and I up from school that afternoon after spending the day up the Preserve. As we were pulling up the drive to the Manor, she had told us that her birthday gift for Dad was a weekend away and that Dick and Barbara would be staying with us. Nathan was quick to ask if we were still going to have cake even though Dad was leaving but after I promised him we would make something, he seemed okay with it.

I, on the other hand, was not.

For nearly several weeks, I had been having the same nightmare every night. There were some variations to the events that took place but it always ended with the Joker killing my father, either as himself or as Batman, and always with me standing by unable to do anything to stop him. Not wanting to seem childish, I neglected to tell either one of my parents, especially knowing they were secure in the Manor.

But they were leaving.

And I didn't know where they were going.

My work with Cassandra and recently with my father had brought me to a new level in my self defense training. On top of helping my father sift through the evidence about the Joker, and practically memorizing hundreds of old cases, I felt I was more than ready to join the Family business.

I just had to summon the courage to do it.

I needed a reason.

A purpose.

Or at least the courage to face my father.

I had talked in broad terms about it with Alfred on a number of occasions but nothing beyond the realm of "what do you think about" and "what would you say". For years I had doodled horses and smiley faces on the edges of my homework but after finding out the truth, I had been trying to create costumes and logos.

It wasn't the life my father wanted for me but it was the one that I wanted.

After heading to the second floor, we stopped briefly at the linen closet to select towels, bed sheets, pillow covers and fresh pillows, two quilts and a down blanket. From there, we went to the guest suite, which included another room for Ethan rather than Dick's old room. Dad had brought down Nathan's old crib and changing table earlier that afternoon and even brought down some of Nathan's old toys, upholding his grandfatherly duties.

That weekend, I planned on upholding my auntie duties, hopefully going with Barbara for her son's highly rumored first hair cut.

After I put the towels away in the bathroom, I went to help Mom make the bed. With the fitted and cover sheets on and adjusted, I finally spoke, "When did you first know you loved Dad?"

Mom paused as she began covering a pillow, "Well, I don't think I really know…"

"Did you always love him?"

She shook her head, "No, when we were younger, when we first dated… I loved the idea of him, of being with him but I wasn't in love with him."

"Well when did you know?"

We finished arranging the down comforter before she sat down, patting the spot on the bed next to her. Once I was seated, she explained, "They way I see it, is that there is no defining moment of falling in love with someone, it takes time to develop. You meet, you get to know one another, spend time together… then one day you wake up and realize you can't imagine your life without that person, that you ever existed without him at your side."

I nodded, "I guess that makes sense."

"I'm sure it's different for everyone, but… Falling in love at first sight, it's meant for fairy tales, not real life… In real life, it's much harder to find prince charming and even if you do find him, princes aren't always what they're made out to be."

As I let her words sink in, I thought back to the vacation we had taken the previous February. In one of our girl's only outings, we had talked about the complicated life she had shared with Dad, both as Selina and Bruce and Batman and Catwoman. She admitted that as Catwoman and as Selina, she had been attracted to Batman and Bruce Wayne for different reasons respectively. When I had asked her if all relationships were as complicated, she had promised me, "As long as you look into men who don't wear tights, you should be fine."

I smirked suddenly, thinking about her references to princes before replying, "Sometimes you want a knight."

"Wiseass," she shoved into me gently.

Hesitating, I chewed on my lip before asking, "Do think Dad will ever let me date?"

She didn't seem at all surprised by my question and answered quickly, "When's the next ice age?"

I nodded, "I know… It's just that Piper is dating Adam and Kat is seeing Marc and… it's just weird, all they talk about is their boyfriends and then all I have to talk about is how long Coltrane's tail is getting and what Nathan did at breakfast."

"At your age, the only thing boyfriends are useful for are bragging rights. They have no other function aside from slow dancing at Friday night dances, carrying your books to class and for having dramatic break-ups with. All part of a normal adolescence."

"Which is what Dad wants for me, right, to have a normal life?"

Mom grinned, "I think you just found your chief argument, kiddo."

With the room set, we returned to the stairwell, continuing our way down to the ground floor. Just as we made it to the bottom of the stairs, we heard laughter coming from behind us. Looking up, I smiled to see that my father was carrying not only the two bags of luggage and two dress bags but also had my little brother hanging off of his left arm.

He was the strongest person I knew.

"I found this upstairs with the luggage, are we bringing it?" Dad smirked as he paused on the last step.

I couldn't imagine my life without him.

Mom shook her head, "Nah, we can put it in the coat closet on the way out."

As Nathan cried out in protest, I realized I couldn't let my dream come true, no matter what.

^V^

Eighteen hours earlier, Selina had been sitting on my lap in the Cave, threatening my well being if I didn't go with her for a weekend getaway.

At the moment, she sat on my lap while we lounged before the fire place in the den of our four room suite, asking, "When should we go back?"

"Never," I replied quietly.

"Never?"

"Homesick?" I asked.

"No… I just wanted to stare at that painting some more."

Tim and Cassandra had dropped by with their gift just before we had left before six that evening. It had been a beautiful black and white portrait of Mattie and Nathan wrapped only with a red ribbon and enormous bow. I had instantly left the atrium to hang it in the den, pulling down a twelve million dollar impression piece without hesitation. Tim had followed me and stood back, nodding with approval, "Looks good, what are you going to do with the Monet?"

"I don't know… guess I could put it in the library… unless you want it?"

His eyes had gone wide before he replied, "My birthday's not until July… and I'm not sure it would fit in with the Scarface and Lord of the Rings posters."

My face had remained stoic as I replied, "Understood… I'm sure the Metro Museum wouldn't mind another piece."

Returning to the atrium, I had been surprised to see that the Family gathering I had not intended on having was present in its entirety. Dick, Barbara and Ethan had arrived, luggage in tow for the weekend. As Barbara had offered me an orange envelope and a kiss on the cheek, I couldn't help but notice the odd look that passed between Dick and Tim.

An odd look I had known all too well.

_If you talk to me, I can't guarantee you're well-being._

Had there not been children present, I would have pursued it.

Had it been my place, I would have seen to it that it was resolved.

"So?" Selina asked as she leaned back, letting her hair spill over my chest, "Have you used your deductive reasoning to figure out where we are."

I took a breath before glancing at my watch, "The flight was an hour and fourteen minutes in a north by north east direction… And the ride was little over an hour but you kept alternating between going north and south so I would guess that the ride should have been fifteen minutes or so, again north by north east… So my guess would be central Connecticut."

She flinched slightly before sighing, "Forget the blind fold, next time I'm just knocking your ass out with ketamine."

I kissed her just behind the ear, "It was a respectable attempt. And having the stationary and any sign of identification removed from the room was a nice touch."

"I just can't win," she began to sit up but my arms snaked around her mid-section and pulled her back down. As I kissed her neck, she snickered, "Now now, we haven't even had dinner yet."

I bit her and growled, "Starving…"

Selina reached back and smacked me in the forehead, "Jackass… I'm not kidding about dinner, it should be coming up shortly."

After leaning back into the couch, I asked, "More evidence?"

"If you can figure out where we are from the entrée then…" she hesitated as she sat up, turning to face me.

"Then what?"

With a smile growing on her lips as she got to her feet, Selina crossed the suite into the master bedroom where our suitcases sat untouched. After hearing a number of zippers being undone, I finally heard her footsteps coming towards me. Selina walked up behind me and said, "I'll wear these."

She dropped a pair of black titanium hand cuffs into my lap.

As my jaw dropped, she continued, "But, if you can't figure it out, to the tee, then you have to wear them."

Somehow, I found my voice, "Fair enough."

A knock on the double doors came two minutes later and I opened it to a pair of Caucasian men dressed in formal white suits, both of them in the late twenties. As they pushed in two carts of food, I did my best to observe every detail about their way of moving, talking and mannerisms. The taller of the two had empty ear piercing in both ears and the other had what appeared to be the top of a Celtic cross tattoo peeking out from under the back of his shirt collar.

Useless information, but information nonetheless.

I studied them as they placed the bounty of covered dishes on the table, arranging them with a precision that Alfred would have been proud of. After lighting a pair of white long stem candles the Celtic Tattoo popped open a bottle of red wine that strong aroma filled the room with little delay. I glanced at the label and my eyes widened, not at the name of Chateau Latour's 1ere Grand Cru Classe Pauillac but at the year of the wine.

1960.

Forty-nine years old.

Me-ow.

After tipping them generously, I walked them to the doors and watched them make their way to the elevator that was directly across from our suite. Selina had kept me blindfolded from the moment we boarded the Wayne Gulfstream V to when she turned the lights on in our suite. Having only a moment to observe the hallway, I was surprised to see white walls with raised plaster lines forming waves from the floor to the ceiling. I had hoped for picture windows or even artwork reflecting local highlights.

As they waited for the elevator car, I cleared my throat and began to ask them if I could have hotel stationary sent to the room but Selina stepped up from behind me and waved at them, "Thanks, guys," before closing the door in my face. She then glared up at me, "No cheating."

Reluctantly, I followed her to the small dining area of the suite and sat down as Selina poured two glasses of the frangant wine. Once she sat across from me, I felt her bare toes settle on top of my socked feet, "Happy birthday."

I clinked my glass with hers, "Thank you."

The suite's silence was broken only by the clatter of spoons on dishware as we started with a fresh New England clam chowder that far surpassed anything that Gotham's finest restaurants could have offered. As I sipped the wine carefully, I said, "Shame we can't celebrate your birthday anymore."

"Oh?" she paused to lick her spoon clean, "And why is that?"

"Well, if you're adamant about not getting any older, there's no need to celebrate."

Her eyes came to life in the flicker of the candles as her grin widened. After my forty-fifth birthday party, of which had been held hostage by a group of criminal not-so-masterminds, I had joked that we would have to do one better for her forty-fifth birthday party. She had promptly knocked me to the ground before digging her heel into my throat, growling that I was to never refer to her being over the age of thirty ever again.

"There is no need to celebrate me getting older, there is still, however, a reason to celebrate me. N'est-ce pas?"

The entrée had been a platter for two, filled with coconut breaded jumbo shrimp, succulent sea scallops as well as fillets of salmon and a lobster tail served over a bed of wild rice pilaf and asparagus. The platter also held three ceramic dishes of sauces and upon tasting each, I identified them as orange Sambuca, Béarnaise and wasabi.

For most of the meal, we remained silent aside from telling one another to taste a certain combination of sea food and sauce. Although she barely put a dent into the platter, Selina reclined in her padded chair, "I'm stuffed."

I glanced to the silver covered platter that remained untouched on the table, "Dessert?"

She finished her wine and replied, "Eventually…"

As I dipped a cube of lobster into the wasabi, I asked, "So, is there an itinerary for this weekend?"

Selina shrugged before leaning forward, filling her glass and mine for the third time, "No clue, it's not my birthday," she took a slow sip before purring, "Mmmm, good year."

"Indeed…" I took a sip as well, my palate sizzling as the wine mixed with the wasabi, "I feel it has aged better than I have."

"Oh, I don't know about that, let me see…" she took another sip and pondered while circulating the liquid in her mouth. She then rose and approached me, kissing my on theelips, her tongue quick to explore mine. When she pulled away a moment later, she shrugged, "Inconclusive, you taste the same."

Leaving dessert, a mango-guava cheesecake, we returned to the den and the dwindling fire. After I built it up once more, I sat on the couch, reaching behind me once I realized I had sat on the handcuffs. Selina set her glass down on the coffee table and asked, "So, have you solved the mystery, oh wise, learned detective?"

After a slight nod, I replied, "The Crowne Plaza Hotel at Cromwell."

Her jaw dropped, similarly to mine when she had dropped the cuffs into my lap. She managed to gain her composure and asked, "How in the world did you…"

"I'm a detective…" I leaned over and kissed her cheek before securing the cuffs around her wrists, just as I had done on countless rooftops. As they clicked closed, I continued, "And Bruce Wayne stays here every time he comes to Hartford."

^V^

"Puddin'?"

"I'm a little busy, Harl," I uttered under my breath.

I was. It took quite a bit of focus to remain still with thirty-six muscle stimulator pads zapping away at you, especially when you were only supposed to wear six at a time. Then again, it was nothing compared to a session with Sparky the Elector Shock paddles back in Arkham.

Now there was a hair raising good time.

"Didn't Doc say you could only wear those for an hour?" Harley asked as she slowly made her way into the room. It was no Ritz, but the attached rooms we had claimed at the Good Time Inn had passed for the last few weeks.

But not for much longer.

"Yes, but if there are twenty four hours in a day, why only spend one of them exercising when you can spend all of them… All without leaving your chair!"

I had been sitting at the faux pine table since midnight, getting pumped while watching the tube. Whenever a commercial came on promoting the product I was using I did a quick check to see if my body matched those on the screen. Alas, it never matched up so I kept at it.

She paused beside me, "Well, yeah but… it's almost five… and your skin is… turning pink."

Glancing down, I commented, "Fancy that…" I began pulling off the small pads attached to the front of my torso one by one, revealing bright pink spots forming a smiley face, "I suppose I could call it quits."

Without turning the various machines they were connected to off, I removed the remaining pads and smirked as several of them popped upon connecting with one another.

_Perhaps I could electrocute him, make him dance in his batty boots until… _

No, not good enough.

It had been nearly two months since Harley had managed to check us out of the Big House and I had yet to walk the streets of Gotham. Instead, we had been shacked up in the highway ho-tel the entire time, keeping Dr. Whatshisname on retainer to help me get back to tip top shape. And after weeks of electrocuting myself, practicing throwing razors at dart boards and other menial activities, I was physically ready to take on the world.

But I just didn't want to.

Since I had woken up, Harley had been doing all that she could to catch me up on the current events. At first, I had laughed at the fact that the Rogues had pretty much called it quits, not even attempting to bust out of the looney bin. But then I had realized that if the Rogues had given up on Gotham, it may not have been the city I once loved to terrorize.

That's when Harley had broken the bad news.

As I had sat practicing hand-eye coordination by spreading my hand flat on the table and stabbing a knife in the spaces between my fingers, she had sat across from me, a sad look drowning her face. After a hefty sigh, she had said, "Puddin'… I got some bad news. I didn't think you were ready to hear it but I know you would want to know…"

I had tossed the knife at her, smiling as it landed blade first on the very edge of the table, "What are you mumbling about?"

"Well, you remember Commissioner Gordon right?"

"Jim-bo! I haven't seen him in ages… How could I forget all the good times with Jimmy? You know, what, Harl, first thing we should do is go snatch him up, have a wild weekend together like the good old---."

She had whispered, "He's dead, puddin'."

"--times, just the two of us.. Well maybe that red headed daughter of his… what?!?!"

"It was cancer, Mistah J, so it's not like anybody got to him before you…" she had been quick to explain before covering her face with her hands.

"It's still an outrage!" I had snapped, "Of all the times I tried to off him and a few lousy carcinomas beat me to the chase… Well, if I had known that was his weakness I would have dipped into radioactive waste…"

"That's not all, puddin'."

"…"

She had gulped air before speaking, "Well, back when they brought you back to Arkham, I got out of my cell to come visit you even though you were in a coma because they say even people in comas can hear people talking to them, like on ER---."

The glare I had shot at her told her to make her long story shorter.

"Anyways, they made a big hooplah about it, called the cops, the SWAT team… and Batman… He, he let me sit with you for a while, Batman did, and then walked me back to his cell."

"Bats made a move on my girl?!" I had cried out in disgust.

Harley had jumped to her feet, "No-no puddin', he was a gentleman… But… I don't think it's really him, I think… it's someone else. He's shorter but you know you shrink as you get older… but… he's got different chin… and he looks younger…"

"No… Bats would never give up, he'd have to be…" had I any color in my cheeks, it would have drained from my face as I finished, "… Dead."

"There was a shootout a while back, not long after they knocked you out… And some French guy grabbed a policeman's gun and went to shoot at Gordon but Batman jumped in the way."

"Please, I've shot him a hundred times…"

She had sighed as she took my hands into hers, "No puddin'… it was bad… there's this rumor that said he got shot in the head and they… they took him in an ambulance…. and… I don't think he made it."

Normally, I would have slapped her silly for such slander.

But I could barely keep my hands from shaking.

Too much had changed in Gotham. New commissioner, new DA, new Batman, new carousel in Robinson Park… It was too much for one clown to take in. And although I tried to convince myself that maybe Batman was out there enjoying some form of brain damaged retirement, I couldn't.

I'd lost him.

And I didn't lose well.

"You know what, Mistah J, I know what will make you feel better," Harley declared suddenly, "We should get out of here for a bit, get some fresh air… Maybe get started on that makeover you were talking about, head to toe. Maybe if we get you looking like the old you, you'll start feeling like the old you."

I turned away from her, carefully avoiding the snapping electric pads laying about the floor as I walked over to the mirror. I stared at myself, covered in pink splotches, and said, "Mirror, mirror on the wall, whose the fairest of them all?"

Harley's reflection joined mine and she enthusiastically pointed at me.

"Get the Doc's car keys and lock him in the trunk, Harl…"

"Where we going?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

"We're starting with my head."

Twenty minutes later, we were parked in front of a twenty-four hour drug store. As I sat in the passenger seat, listening to the Doc's muffled cries for help, I explained to Harley, "Now, kiddo, because of my celebrity nature, I can't be seen in public looking like this… So just run on in there and get a bottle of hunter green hair dye."

"I don't think they---."

"Exactly, you don't think. On your way."

Dressed in jeans and a leather coat we had borrowed from the late manager's wife of the Good Times Inn, Harley skipped into the drug store and not five minutes later came walking back to the car empty handed, her usually bright face sullen.

Before I could snap at her, she pouted, "They didn't have any in the men's hair product aisle and when I asked the clerk he called me a punk freak and told me to get out."

"No one yells at Harley," I yelled before jumping out of the car, "… except me!"

The store's front door chimed as I opened it. I stormed over to the man sitting at the checkout counter, his eyes glued to a Maxim magazine, and growled, "Excuse me."

He ignored me and turned the page.

"You owe my lady friend an apology."

Without looking up, he sighed, "You and your lady friend can look for crazy shit some place else."

"What is so crazy about green hair dye."

"I don't know," he glanced up at me, "You tell… me… Oh my God."

As he reached for the phone behind him, I reached forward and grabbed him by his throat, "Don't bother, we won't be long… Harley?!"

She carefully walked through the store entrance, "Yeah, Msitah J?"

I pulled him closet to me, letting him get a good look at the smile on my face, "Get me some hair dye."

"What color?"

"Whatever sounds the most palatable."

Minutes later, as I knelt above the clerk, force feeding him hair dye as quickly as Harley could mix it up in the little plastic bottles, I laughed heartily, "You're right, Harl, this is exactly what I needed."

"Oh, it's good to see you smiling, puddin'."

"And it feels good…" I tried to squeeze in the last of a bottle of mocha latte but it dribbled out of his still lips and slowly dripped down puffed out cheeks, "Ooops, he dyed! HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

^V^


	3. Now And Then: III

Title: Now And Then: III

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language, adult situations and violence

Summary: The Family learns of the Joker's latest victim, each knowing it's just the beginning…

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Bruce and Selina's journey home is reminiscent of my ride home from north east Massachusetts last weekend… except I didn't get to share a five hour drive in a bliazzard with a handsome billionaire…

^V^

My first thought upon entering the drug store was that it smelt similar to the dorm room hallways whenever the girls on the floor had a hair dyeing party.

The ammonia was approaching unbearable, a direct result of the doors being kept closed in order to preserve the crime scene. As I passed through the back entrance, Kelsey had been wiping at the tears forming in her eyes even after she had covered her face with a scarf. I would have done the same if I had allowed myself to respond to the acrid air.

Less than forty minutes earlier, I had been debating as to whether or not I should call it a night. Having been up passed six in the morning for nearly two months, I was losing the battle with exhaustion even with unyielding will power. Just as the lens display of the cowl read 4:00 AM, the starless sky lit up as the signal flared from the roof of Gotham Police headquarters.

"So much for sleep," I had growled before making my way to Tri-Corner.

The last four times the signal had gone up, Kelsey had wanted an update report about the Joker cards and if my "team" had made any breaks. The threat of losing sleep over having another useless chat with her forced my already dismal mood to worsen. I would have blown her off entirely but after developing a manageable rapport after quarreling over the last few years, I knew it wouldn't be worth it.

Landing on the southwest corner of the building, I approached Kelsey from behind. She was staring intently at the sky, arms crossed over her chest as she shivered under a calf length wool coat. I allowed two minutes to pass before I cleared my throat.

She didn't so much as flinch.

"Homicide came in, I've got it under wraps until you take a look at the crime scene," Kelsey spoke quietly as she turned to face me.

I didn't so much as flinch.

She continued, "There's nothing that screams that it's the Joker but it… it's pretty damn close as far as I'm concerned… I'm heading over now, if you can give me thirty minutes, I'll clear the scene."

Considering the enormous importance of her gesture, I offered her a curt nod before responding, "How many victims?"

"Just one… Thank God."

Kelsey handed over a folded piece of paper on which she had written the address of the crime scene. As she turned to shut down the Signal, I made my exit, no doubt walking out on her in the middle of a sentence. Making my way back to the street, I contacted Oracle, "I'm heading to Lyntown, homicide on Pawling Street."

"Hmm, nothing came over the scanners," she observed, "Dare I ask why?"

My silence was my answer.

She continued, "I'll have Batgirl finish patrolling the Park and send her your way---."

I cut her off with a gruff, "No. No I want to run it myself."

"… Okay… Well, I'll stay online if you need anything."

I should have thanked her. Instead, I signed off after saying, "Fine."

It took more than twenty minutes to cross into the most southern borough of Gotham, with street traffic backed up because of an accident on the International Airport on -ramp. Temporarily forgetting the rules of the road, I flew down the HOV lane on the cycle before making an abrupt exit for Lyntown.

Pawling Street was fairly well established as being a place to avoid after sundown. Pawn shops and liquor stores were prevalent as were shady motels and corners inhabited by prostitutes. It had been an up hill battle with drugs, gang activity and gambling long before I put on my first cape.

The front entrance of the twenty- four hour drug store flashed red with the lights of six squad cars blocking the street, not to mention the gloomy presence of the coroner's van. I opted for seclusion, making my way to the service entranceway before parking behind a dumpster. I had given Kelsey plenty of time but opted to wait another ten minutes, mostly to clear my head.

The metal double doors were unlocked and I proceeded into the dark storage room without activating my infrared lenses. Approaching the archway leading into the main part of the store, I distinctly heard Kelsey ordering everyone out. There were a few grumbles, mostly pertaining to the ammonia and a dire need for fresh air. Or at least a cigarette.

One voice, male and exhausted, said, "It's all yours, Bats."

When the sound of scuffed shoes and voices ceased, I stepped out onto the main floor, suddenly all too aware at how brightly lit the room was. Kelsey, who had been doing her best to regulate her breathing, spun around abruptly. Her eyes widened as she looked me over and after a silent moment, she offered, "You're late."

Ignoring her, I approached the marked off clerk station, carefully taking note of the evidence cards marking more than thirty empty bottles of hair dye and associated boxes, plastic gloves and instructions. Not a typical weapon, unless in a very wrong set of hands…

Crouching above the body, the ammonia only getting stronger, I carefully pulled back the sheet expecting to see the death stricken grin I had become regrettably familiar with in Joker victims. Instead, I looked upon a pale pock marked face, eyes wide in terror even in death. His mouth overflowed with the contents of said thirty empty bottles, with a considerable amount pooled beneath him after spilling over his lips.

"Coroner said that stuff is down both his trachea and esophagus," Kelsey said as she moved closer, "Puts the time of death less two hours ago. Woman came in for a carton of cigarettes and found the body… called in on the payphone out front but not before she swiped a basket full of cigarettes and food… security cameras didn't get much of her---."

I rose to my feet, "Where are the tapes?"

She nodded to the back of the building, "Manager's office," and turned to lead the way, "I've only watched it from the time the responding unit arrived back to when the witness found the body."

There were two fake oak desks in the manager's office, each littered with work schedules, sticky notes and Plan O Gram's. The desk to the left held a monitor, the screen divided into four squares. Kelsey took a seat on a padded wooden chair before popping the tape back into the VCR. After letting it play, she hit the rewind button, making the images on screen travel back in time. In the one hundred and fourteen minutes that lapsed between the good Samaritan's call and the assault on the clerk, eleven people had walked into the store, spotted the body and had proceeded to shoplift.

The least of my concerns.

"There," I growled and Kelsey hit Play.

A woman in a leather jacket and jeans, entered the store, browsed a few aisles and then approached the clerk with a question. While reading a magazine, he appeared to speak to her in less than helpful manner before nodding to the door. Not a minute after the woman shuffled out of the store, a man dressed in a dark fedora and trench coat stormed in and confronted the clerk.

I felt the hair raise on the back of my neck when the clerk finally looked up and recognized his future assailant.

The man in the fedora grabbed the clerk by the throat, slammed his head repeatedly into the cash register before letting him slump to the floor behind the counter. The woman, who had been hard at work browsing the aisles once more, returned to the check out counter with a basket full of hair dye boxes.

Thirty hair dye boxes.

We watched in silence as the woman, facing away from the camera, combined ingredients and shook bottles up before handing them over to her associate. He had been sitting on the quasi-conscious clerk's torso, fedora bobbing as he talked. With the first bottle mixed and ready, the woman turned towards him, her pixie cute face crystal clear on the monitor: Harleen Quinzel.

The man shrugged the coat off and rolled up his sleeves before looking up to take the bottle from her, his face twisted in a grin.

"Jesus," Kelsey muttered as the Joker began force feeding the bottles of hair dye to the clerk, one right after another, laughing hysterically as the man underneath him writhed, gagged and choked. After the bottles had been emptied, the clerk had grown very still but the Joker's body still wracked with uncontrollable laughter.

Harley tiptoed over the body, kissed her beau on his pasty white cheek before stabbing a few buttons on the cash register. After the receipt printed out, she handed it to the Joker and watched as he scribbled on it.

My eyes lit up when he opened the register, removed all of the cash before putting the slip into the drawer and closing it.

I ran out of the office and returned to the front counter. Kelsey was quick to follow and joined me just as I figured out how to open it. Inside, the drawers were empty save for the receipt he had left behind. Sure enough, they had rung up the hair dye in addition to a Three Musketeers bar and Bic lighter.

Where the customer signature should have been, the Joker had scribbled in tiny print: _Old clerks never die, they just cash out! _

"What does it mean?" Kelsey asked.

I didn't have an answer for her, but I had a sick feeling that the Joker was going to let us know, one way or another.

^V^

"Barbara?"

The fact that he didn't refer to me as Oracle instantly sent up a red flag. I brought his position up on the Cave monitor, not surprised to see he was still in Lyntown, "Yeah, Boss?"

"We need to get a hold of Bruce."

"That bad?"

He sighed. Batman did not sigh.

"Even if we didn't have them on security tape, I can't think of anyone else who would force feed over two dozen bottle of hair dye to a drug store clerk…"

"Tape as in non-digital as in non-accessible by the internets kind of tape?" I asked.

"I took it... Actually Kelsey gave it to me… he left a hand written joke on a receipt… Old clerks never die, they just check out."

Trying to distract myself from the fact that the Joker body count in Gotham had just gone up another peg, I responded, "Selina left their cells and Blackberries here at the Manor to keep Bruce from playing vacationing vigilante…"

"Then call the hotel." The softness in his tone was already beginning to fade back to darkness.

"She didn't say where---," I began to explain.

"Track their credit cards and find them," he snapped before drawing a long breath.

Even though I knew it wasn't going to make a difference, I stated, "Tim, what exactly do we need Bruce for?"

He growled, "Do you want to keep him in the dark?"

"No it's just that what can he possibly do right this minute?" When he didn't reply, I finally relented, "Okay… Do you want me to tell him or---."

He cut me off once more, "Patch him through when you get him on the phone."

Click.

"Well then," I sighed before hacking away at the keyboard.

As Oracle, I had infiltrated the computer and record systems of dozens of government agencies and countless private individuals all for the greater good. Invasion of privacy justified saving lives, a motto our government have been secretly following far longer than I had. But despite all of the investigative intrusions that I had performed, I had never looked into the inner workings of the personal lives of any member of the Family.

Except once when I wanted to see what Dick had gotten me for my birthday a few years back. I had pulled up his credit card bill, pleasantly pleased to see a purchase had been made at IKEA for our new bed set.

Pulling up my self-engineered program for hunting down cash trails, I found Selina's Platinum American Express card had last been charged at the Crowne Plaza Hotel at Cromwell in Connecticut for $2,045.87. It took only another minute to get the phone number for the front desk.

Even though it was approaching five in the morning, a bright, crisp male voice answered with only the slightest New England inflection, "Thank you for calling the Crowne Plaza Hotel at Cromwell, this is Derek speaking, how may I help you?"

"Hi, my… father-in-law checked in last night for the weekend and unfortunately he didn't call to leave a room number and it's very urgent that I speak with him."

"Your name, please?" he asked.

"Barbara Gordon-Grayson."

"And the guest you are trying to reach?"

"Bruce Wayne."

There was a brief pause that was filled with the clatter of a keyboard on the other end of the line, followed by, "I'm sorry, Ms. Gordon-Grayson, that particular guest has requested a Do Not Disturb---."

"It is extremely important that I speak with him, it's a family emergency."

There was another pause, a muffled conversation, and then, "Ms. Gordon-Grayson, I apologize, but Mr. Wayne is a VIP guest and letting just anyone call his suite at this hour---."

"Trust me, if he's going to get upset at anyone, it's going to be at you for not letting me speak with him."

The politeness that I had been greeted with was long gone as Derek grumbled, "Wait a moment."

As I mumbled curses to muzak, Batman came back on the comm. link, "Well?"

I relayed that I had found out where they were but that I was in the process of battling with the front desk to let me have their room number. He growled something undecipherable and signed off.

Finally, Derek returned, "Mr. Wayne is not answering the room phone, he may have the ringer unplug---."

"Send someone to his room!" I shot back, passing on the aggression Tim had been directing at me all week.

Derek gulped and managed to reply, "Just a moment."

Fifteen minutes passed before I heard Bruce's rushed voice, "Barbara?"

"Thank God… Are you in your room?"

"Lobby… is everything all right, are the kids---."

"Bruce, they're fine but, Tim wanted to---."

"Wait," he covered the phone before speaking, "Can I have this patched to my suite? Family business… Thanks… No, don't worry… No, no need to apologize."

There was the click of the call being transferred followed by a single ring that was abruptly cut off as Selina answered, "Barbara, is everything all right? They just had some bell hop banging on our door… Then Bruce went with him down to the lobby---."

"No, the kids are fine… It's the---."

I heard a door open followed by fast and heavy footfalls as Bruce growled in the background, "Give me the phone."

Gee, I wonder where Tim picked up his grouch shtick.

He then said, "What's happened? Did Mattie have an asthma attack?"

"They're fine, I promise but Tim wanted to tell you---."

"Tell me what?" the anxiety came through the growl in his voice.

Even though I was certain to catch hell from Tim, I took a breath before relaying the little I knew to Bruce. I was sure to emphasize that Tim and Kelsey were already collaborating on it and that we had possession of video surveillance of the Joker in action. Surprisingly enough, he didn't interrupt once.

"Tim said he left a hand written joke," I finished, "Old clerks never die, they just check out."

Bruce remained silent, eerily so, before finally responding, "Does he have it?"

"He didn't say."

A grunt sounded before, "Make sure he gets it… We'll be leaving here shortly---."

For the first time that night, I cut someone off mid-sentence, "Bruce I don't think that's necessary, I mean, we have it under control, I'll have Dick and Cass head out to patrol Lyntown, and Tim's already scouting out the area around the crime scene as we speak."

He went quiet again before I heard him talking to Selina in the background. When he returned, Bruce cleared his throat before correcting his previous statement, "We'll be leaving in the morning… Keep the kids home from school, I'll call in for them at seven-thirty."

I thought about asking whether or not I should tell Mattie what had happened but decided having one pissed off Bat was enough for the time being. Instead, I replied, "Don't worry, I'll call in for them."

He offered a rushed word of thanks before hanging up, no doubt to re-pack bags they had just emptied hours earlier. And knowing Bruce as well as I did, he was most likely letting his suddenly acquired aggravations out on his wife, a fatal error considering he still had to ride home with her.

That was if she didn't accidentally push him out of the plane.

^V^

The gods must have been watching out for Bruce Wayne.

If the snow storm that had been expected on Sunday hadn't arrived in the northeast early, we would have taken the Gulfstream back to Gotham and I would have most likely shoved him out the emergency door from fifty thousand feet, wondering if bats landed on their feet.

But with an expected snow fall of up to an inch an hour from six in the morning until midday, flights had been grounded even for billionaires. Still, Bruce had bartered and barked at several levels of management in the Bradley International Airport from shortly after he hung up with Barbara to nearly seven-thirty that morning. When I had asked if he wanted me to call Barbara to tell her we wouldn't be getting in until later that day, he had told me to pack before he donned a wool dress coat and left the suite.

Grrrr…

After Bruce had snapped the cuffs on me the night before, I had expected it was just the beginning of a long, passionate evening, reminiscent to those from before we had been married. Even though it was his birthday, I couldn't help but to instinctually free myself from the hand cuffs with a bobby pin before snapping them closed on his wrists.

From there, we had alternated between escaping and ensnaring one another as we kissed and disrobed. When Bruce had carried me to the bedroom, I had freed one of my wrists and then proceeded to cuff myself to him. As he had set me down on the bed, kissing my neck, I could have sworn he had purred. But twenty minutes later, rather than commencing Round Two, Bruce had freed the single cuff from his wrist before doing the same to me.

Just as I had been about to go in for the kill, Bruce had yawned.

"Tired, old man?" I had mocked him.

"Hard to keep up with someone as young as you," he had sighed as he turned his head towards me. Although his lips had been straight, the tension in his chin said he had been fighting a smile.

"Damn straight," I had rolled onto my back before arranging the covers over me. Out of the corner of my eye, I had seen that Bruce had lost his battle against the smirk and I had added, "And don't you forget it."

"… Yes, dear."

He had fallen asleep not fifteen minutes later, his breaths coming long and low. For years, he had fought insomnia by watching me sleep beside him and as I watched the tension of his face dissipate with each breath, I had realized its soothing effect. Without waking him, I had moved to rest my head on his chest, listening to his heart lub-dubb.

Even though it was only three days out of the city, I had hoped it would be enough to allow Bruce to clear his mind before delving back into the mad world of the Joker. He had practically sequestered himself since New Year's but I found it nearly impossible to be angry with him. It seemed selfish to force my husband to focus on trivial things in place of trying to hunt down the Joker. Even still, dinners of three rather than four and tucking in Nathan without seeing Bruce lying in bed reading with him had grown tiring.

The rhythm of his heart and breathing had lulled me to sleep, even as his chest hair tickled my cheek. But where falling asleep had been peaceful, I had woken to loud pounding and Bruce leaping out from underneath me.

I had managed a soft, "Whuh… Bruce?"

"Stay put," he had whispered as he donned the clothes we had haphazardly discarded earlier. Watching from the bed as he approached the double doors, the knocking had only grown stronger. After peering through the fish eye lens, he had unlocked the door and opened it to reveal a gentleman dressed in the resort's navy blue jacket with gold piping.

Before Bruce could have spoken, the gentleman had said, "I'm sorry to disturb you at this hour, Mr. Wayne, my name is Derek, I'm the Front Desk Assistant Manager… there is an emergency call coming from a Barbara Gordon---."

"What is it?"

"She said it was a family emergency, we tried to send her call up but there was no answer after five tries," the man had continued.

Bruce had glanced back at me briefly before turning to Derek, "I'll be down in a moment." After shutting the door, Bruce had flipped the lights on and frantically searched for his shoes, as he had growled, "I told you not to turn the ringer off…"

Anything I would have said at that point would have only made him angrier so I opted for silence. Apparently, he chose the same path because after he had donned both shoes, he raced from the suite, slamming the door on his way out.

I had sat alone in the bed for a few minutes before deciding to get up myself, even if it was long before I had any intention of being up for the day. Just as I had begun dressing, the light on the phone began to flicker and I raced to grab it, "Barbara, is everything all right? They just had some bell hop banging on our door… Then Bruce went with him down to the lobby---."

Before she had been able to explain what had happened, Bruce had stormed into the room, pausing next to me before demanding the phone.

The appropriate response would have been to claw his eyes out with an angry hiss but instead, I had handed over the phone and sat back down on the bed, my eyes never leaving his face as he spoke with Barbara.

Even though I had been intently listening to Bruce's side of the conversation for our unexpected wake up a few hours earlier, I had a fairly good idea as to what was going on. Long story short, everything was fine with the exception to a drug store clerk who had been visited by a very wrong customer.

Thankfully, we hadn't really unpacked so it took less than fifteen minutes to rearrange our belongings from the impromptu trip home. With Bruce still gone, I showered and dressed and called Barbara when it was the manageable time of eight-fifteen. Apparently Mattie was making omelets for everyone and Dick was catching grapes as Nathan threw them at his mouth. I managed to talk with each for a few minutes before Bruce returned.

To my surprise, Bruce didn't come back in the possession of a team of sled dogs or a pair of snowmobile helmets but rather he carried two cups of coffee and a paper bag emitting heavenly aromas of almonds and baked goods.

I hung up the phone and watched as he approached. "Well?" I asked as I took my coffee from him.

He sat on the bed beside me, putting the bag between us as a buffer. After a moment of staring at his feet, Bruce looked to me and said, "I have a confession…"

"What? That you're an obsessive-compulsive, ego-maniacal, ruthless and unwavering vengeful being who has the stones to yell at his wife before her morning coffee?"

His brow rose slightly before he replied, "I yelled at you?"

After taking a cautious sip, I nodded, "You snapped at me that I shouldn't have turned the ringer off."

A wince later, Bruce resumed with, "I'm sorry… You'd think I would know better by now."

"You would think," I said with nonchalance as I peeked into the bag. An almond Danish and raspberry tart…. perhaps I would forgive him if he settled for scraps. As I selected the tart first, I reminded him, "Anyway, your confession?"

He reached for the bag and I hissed at him until he backed down. Coming to an agreement, he proceeded, "I was… glad it was the Joker… that he had killed someone."

I spat still-warm and gooey pastry all over the front of my cashmere sweater, "What?"

"On some level…" he tried to redeem himself further by retrieving the box of tissues from the bathroom. After he handed them to me, he resumed, "On some level this is what we needed, we needed him in the open, doing what he does best."

"I thought the idea behind crime fighting was to prevent crime, not endorse it…" I muttered as I tried to pick at the raspberries that were quickly ruining my sweater. After a sigh of defeat, I took it off and threw it on the floor.

"It is… but this, this will bring everything into focus… actualizing the hunt for him."

I paused before saying, "Because looking for him before was just for fun?"

"No," he shook his head as he rose to his feet, "It's not like that at all… Trying to find him, or any of them for that matter… after weeks of nothing the trail isn't the only thing that grows stagnant… the drive behind it does as well. I've found ways around it over the years but for Tim… this will make it easier."

"And harder," I added. When he looked at me in silent question, I explained, "He's already spent years trying to live up to your legacy, Bruce, now he has to overcome a hurdle you barely cleared for years. I know what the Joker's done to you… And Dick and Barbara… I don't want to see what he's going to do to Tim." I got to my feet after setting my coffee and the remainder of the tart on the bedside table.

"Neither do I, but… it's an occupational hazard."

"What, losing what you love most the man who hate most?"

I felt Bruce's hand on my arm and when I faced him, the pain of every chase, of every fight and every loss he had ever endured at the hands of the Joker seemed to wash over his face.

Not an hour earlier I had been planning how best to punish him for yelling at me for no reason.

At that moment, nothing mattered except putting my face to his chest so I could listen to his heart lub-dub.

^V^

I woke suddenly to the sound of childish giggling. It took less than a minute to match it with Will Cutting but it took far longer to realize what he was laughing at.

After sitting up from the somewhat sprawled position I had taken over my desk, I looked up to see Will standing less than two feet away, putting a cap on a black onyx pen. As I glanced up at him, still confused and partially unconscious, he cocked his head to the left and asked, "When did you let your unibrow grow back in, Dick?"

He wouldn't…

Since I was a man, a manly man, I didn't have a cosmetic mirror in my office, nor was my polished cedar desk ever clean enough to provide a good reflection of myself. In fact the only reflective surfaces were the windows behind the drawn shades and the plasma TV screen on the far wall. With less grace than usual, I walked over and stared at myself.

Or rather, my unibrow.

"You are so dead…" I growled as I began licking my fingers before rubbing my forehead.

"Actually, you are… I came in here at noon and you were passed out and when I came back in here five minutes ago the only thing that had changed was the size of the pool of drool on the Coleman security file on your desk."

I hesitated before asking, "So I took a nap instead of shoving my face for lunch, how many times are you interviewing retailers over the phone when you're actually chatting up your fantasy football buddies?"

"Nap for lunch?" Will shook his head, "Dick it's almost six-thirty."

"Whuh?" I managed before glanced at my left wrist. Sure enough, it was twenty after six. The next word out of my mouth was one that I should have covered Frank's little up right ears had he not been in his own coma on one of my guest chairs.

Will laughed again, "I called Barbara, told her you were still breathing but I wasn't about to kiss you to wake you up."

Still in disbelief and not about to put Will beyond changing my watch's time, I walked to the windows and drew back the blinds. Sure enough, the sky was dark and the city's winter nightlife was already warming up. When I turned to look back at him, his smile had been replaced with a concerned look that made me think of Alfred.

"Dick… are things okay at home? I mean, Barbara sounded kind of flustered…"

I resumed scrubbing the space between my eyebrows before replying, "Oh, well, we were supposed to stay at the Manor this weekend while Bruce and Selina were away but now they're coming home and you know, it's a pain in the ass to pack a baby up for three days only to turn around and unpack… You know Barbara, that kind of stuff really irks her."

"Right…" he sat in the leather chair facing my desk before reaching over an gently scratching Frank's wrinkled head, "Well, I meant… it's not just today… the last few weeks, you and Tim, even Cassandra, you all seem.. I don't know… drained."

"Those New Year's resolutions to get fit are a bitch," I smiled brightly at him after giving up on my brow.

"I'm not an idiot, Dick… You've been wearing the same tailored suits since I started here… they don't do a damn thing to hide that physique."

Again, I tried to brush off his inquiry with a joke, "Hey, I like you too but not like that… and we at DJG Security do not endorse interoffice---."

"I know, Dick."

I was taken aback and blinked several times before responding, "Excuse me?"

"I know there's something going on… And you're not the only detective in town, pal… I'm not an idiot."

"That's not what your suit says," I chided once more.

He finally broke a small smirk, "Do you ever take anything seriously?"

"Life's short, laugh often."

Will rose to his feet and spoke before leaving my office, "Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we die."

I called out after him, "Everyone loves a comedian!"

He called back, his voice faint over the distance from my office to the waiting area, "Laugh it up!"

After the front doors opened and closed, I sat back in my chair and stared at Frank, who had miraculously slept through our brief conversation. Our brief, odd conversation. Of course, I supposed, it was fairly obvious that three of us were running on practically empty after spending long nights scouring a city for any sign of the Joker. Half the time, Tim and Cass didn't show up for work until noon and the other half they worked from home.

Leaving Will and I to juggle what was intended for four.

Even before the Joker, we had been lagging since we had lost Jim over a year earlier. The thought of hiring someone new and letting them set up shop in his office was still something I wasn't ready to face. In the weeks after his death, I had wandered into his office and sat in one of the guest chairs without even realizing on several occasions. For years I had sat in that chair as he sat behind his desk, barking at me for complaining about how much work we had to do.

_No wonder he was always yelling at you… all you do is talk._

Frank looked up suddenly, gruffed, grunted then raced out of my office. I watched on as he bee-lined out of sight, down the wide corridor and towards the waiting area. "Everyone's leaving me," I sighed before reaching or a tissue to resume the task of cleaning my brow.

"Hey, I'm not leaving, I'm coming to your rescue, short pants."

Barbara was at my door, her lap holding a brown paper bag with the red printed logo of Charney's, one of my favorite steak and burger dives in Gotham. When I had moved to Bludhaven all those years ago, I had done my best to convince them to open a new restaurant there but they declined all of my generous funding offers.

As the wafting aroma of char broiled steak burger, melting cheese and seasoned curly fries made their way to my nose, I found myself rising to my feet. Shuffling slowly, I approached Barbara and knelt in front of her, pretending to sob before letting my head fall in her lap. She laughed as she set a hand on the back of my head, "There, there, after you overload on calories, you'll feel better."

I sat right there on the floor, devouring a massive Gorgonzola and sautéed onion burger that I had to physically force myself to finish. Barbara had opted for a Chipotle chicken Panini and only managed to eat half before putting it back in its Styrofoam box.

After emptying a bottle of IBC root beer, I said quietly, "I take it they made him home, safe and sound?"

"Safe, yes. Sound… that's to be determined…. I'm sorry, I have to ask… what happened to your face?"

"Oh, Will... He drew on me while I was sleeping… probably while he called you."

She fought a smile before replying, "You make a dashing Bert."

"Nothing compared to your sexy Ernie… Speaking of Sesame Street, don't we have a kid or something?"

She nodded, "Or something… Selina said she would take him for the night for no reason considering we had been so kind to watch her children for one night for no reason."

"Is he… ready for a sleepover?"

"Are you ready for him to have a sleepover?"

I chewed my lip and she threw a crumpled up napkin at me.

"He'll only be fourteen miles away…" she reached a hand to my face and caressed my cheek before wiping a smidgen of cheese from my chin, "That and I doubt I'd be able to do anything for him tonight. Tim's got a few leads for both of us to look into."

"Already? The man's a machine," I pushed myself to my feet and rolled my head around until it popped loud enough to my satisfaction. "But then again he got to stay home all day to work on things while I had to---."

She cut me off before handing me her container, "While you had to sleep on your desk all day, you poor thing." After she turned and made her way out the door, I threw away the empty bag and wrappers before following her, carefully carrying her sandwich.

I managed to catch up at the elevator as we waited for a downward traveling car, "So do tell, how was the ride home for the Waynes?"

Barbara let herself grin, "Let's see… they couldn't fly home because of the storm so naturally Bruce decided it was still safe enough to drive home, especially if they headed out bright and early to beat the storm."

The elevator doors opened and after she entered, I followed, shaking my head, "Beat the storm by driving southwest as the storm traveled northeast."

She pressed the ground floor button, "Yeah… I guess it worked for about forty minutes… and then the two hour drive home ended up being more like five and a half."

"Ouch… I can only imagine what two hours of driving twenty-five miles per hour on 678 South did for Bruce's road rage."

"He doesn't have road rage, he just has a low tolerance for drivers not on par with his skill."

The elevator stopped a moment later and we made our way into the silent lobby. I opened one of the glass doors for her before saying, "Yeah, all those people on par with a man who trained with race car and stunt drivers…"

"Yeah there's what, three of you?"

"Hey, contrary to the way she drives, Cass never completed the race car thing, so she doesn't count."

^V^

When I had been her age, I had already mastered over sixty forms of martial arts from aikido to Wing Chun, perfected throwing any weapon sharp enough to pierce human bone and had been on my own for nearly seven years after my first and only kill. Other than the fact that Mattie had a loving family and would never take a life by her own hand, she was my blue-eyed thirteen year-old clone.

Since Tim had planned on working over the Joker killing with Bruce, I had opted to head to the Manor for my afternoon session with Mattie rather than to have her come into the city. Tim had chosen to come up later on his own, explaining that he needed to sort things out before he spoke with Bruce.

In the day and a half that had passed since the Joker's latest victim had been found, I had done my best to help Tim investigate it by taking care of anything unrelated to the Joker. By day, I had taken Robbie for a run in the park, picked up the Townhouse and tried to play catch up on work from the firm. By night, I had patrolled the city in not only my boroughs but those he toured nightly, taking down all levels of scum, from the low to the lowest.

From years spent watching Batman hunt down those who threatened the city, I knew it was a routine I was going to have to get used to.

"Hi-yah!"

I had been sitting on the training mats, spread out as I stretched by grasping hold of the arch of my foot. For the better part of a two hours, Mattie had been working through various katas. Rather than move on to sparring or gymnastics, I had simply made her start all over again the very second she was finished.

At the moment, she was working through the standing exercises of judo kime-no-kata, fighting off invisible attackers with single hand and double hand maneuvers. She was dressed just as I was, in a sleeveless black lycra top and ankle length leggings. Even at her level of fitness, she had broken out in a sweat causing the few waves of black hair that had fallen from her ponytail to stick to her neck.

After another cry of effort, Mattie finished a yoko-uchi move, mocking an effective blow to her unseen opponent's neck before pretending to turn and throw him to the ground.

"Good," I remarked as I sat up, releasing the hold on my left foot.

She relaxed and took a casual stance, wiping sweat from her brow, "Now what?"

I smirked, "Do it again."

Her eyes widened in disbelief, "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"I've done it five times already---."

Rising to my feet without using my hands, I countered, "Then do it five more times."

"Why? What am I doing wrong?"

I offered her a shrug, "Nothing, you're doing it perfect… More times you do it perfect, less times you mess up when you need it." As I left her to begin her kata once more, I admitted to myself that after she did it three more times I would let her stop.

If I remembered.

Approaching the main floor of the Cave, I looked to the left just as I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. I spotted two figures, similar in size and shape and when light washed over them, I smiled to see they were even dressed alike in dark wool sweaters and black slacks.

Where Bruce simply nodded at me before heading towards the computer bay, Tim took a moment to pause beside me, showing a quick smirk before looking beyond me and towards the training mats, "Working her overtime?"

I glanced back as well to see Mattie was viciously assaulting her nonexistent attacker, "Does it to herself."

Tim then looked from Mattie to Bruce, who was already at the computer talking with Barbara, "Wonder where she gets it…"

After a beat, I asked, "Need any help?"

"No… I think this is going to be Batman thing… no offense."

"It's okay… I'll go back to torturing his daughter," I kissed his cheek quickly before returning to the training area. Just as Mattie turned to face away from me, I leapt onto the mats and moved in to surprise her with a ushiro-doro by ensnaring her arms and upper body in my arms before pulling her back off of her feet.

Without a moment's hesitation, she shifted her weight forward again, stomped on the instep and waited until my balance altered before lunging forwards, sending me over top of her. I landed on my feet, facing her, expecting her to say something.

Instead, she chose action rather than words.

Although I generally was on the offense when I sparred with her, in the last four months she had been more than capable of putting me on the defense. Whenever Terry joined our sessions, I noted how much she toned down her abilities, letting me practically wipe the floor with her. But when we were alone, she held nothing back… and neither did I.

It was as I threw a double jab to her solar plexus that I realized why she was being so aggressive: her father.

As we fought, I managed a few glances up at the computer bay and it was not surprising to see that both Bruce and Tim were engulfed in reviewing evidence and referencing maps and data on the big screen. I caught Mattie looking up several times as well and rather than feel sorry for the sad look that came across her face, I took advantage of her distraction by knocking her down.

Which in turn, made her drive even harder for her father's attention.

When both of us were dripping with sweat and had pinned one another several times, I took a formal bow and she was quick to follow. After relaxing my stance, Mattie grinned at me before slowly letting herself fall to the mats, sprawling out with a big sigh, "That was awesome."

"Want to go again?"

She barely lifted her head as she replied, "The mind is willing, the body is spent."

I walked over to the small wrought iron rack that held several hand towels. After I took one for her and for myself, I wiped my face and returned to stand beside her. I dropped the towel on her face and said, "You are wise, young grasshopper,"

Without moving the towel, she laughed, "Thanks, old cricket."

When Mattie finally grasped the towel, I offered her a hand up and then watched on as she slowly made her way to the main floor, her eyes glued to the computer bay. Bruce never looked towards her, even as she stopped to stare at him.

Poor kid.

After another sigh, she turned and headed for the stairs, no doubt to shower and change before starting in on dinner. Earlier that afternoon, I had told her that someday I would help her in the kitchen. Mattie had smiled brightly before declaring that finally she would finally be able to teach me something: flambé.

I arrived at the computer bay just in time to watch the security footage of the Joker for the millionth time. They had enhanced the original grainy version and brought the sadistic clown to life on the massive high-definition screen.

"The other purchases on the receipt, the lighter… the chocolate bar… we know he's gone the homicidal route before with both arson and," Bruce said quietly, his eyes never wavering from the display.

Barbara, who's image was on one of the smaller screens replied, "And chocolate… I still have the mental scars to prove it."

I was hazy on the details, but I suddenly recalled a story Barbara had told me about when she had been Batgirl. The Joker had seemingly attacked a man named Peter Barbieri, first by setting an explosion in his office building in Manchester before killing him and his wife in their manor in Bristol. And of course, taking their young son hostage, emotionally crippled after watching the Joker shoot his parents to death.

"Thankfully," Barbara had said, "I was in shock as well… he took me hostage and I managed to help the kid escape before the Joker decided to kill him too."

When she had willingly accepted her fate by taking the boy's place, the Joker had finally confided in her that the reason he had exacted such horror on the Barbieri family was because he was enraged that their line of chocolate nougat surprises contained cherries in them.

Apparently the Joker did not like cherries.

"How did you escape?" I had asked as we sat on her sofa, so many years ago.

"Batman came, of course… He undid one of my restraints with a Batarang before taking on Joker's henchmen…. The Joker shot at him randomly while he fought probably twenty thugs at once… after shooting several of his won men, he managed to get a lucky shot that skimmed Bruce's temple. After he went down, the Joker was distracted enough so I could get the upper hand."

Thinking back on that, I couldn't help but shiver at the thought of bringing down the Joker had required Batman to fall as well.

After the footage came to an end, Tim turned to me and offered a curt nod, "Tire you out?"

"I could go a few more rounds," I offered.

He nodded again, "Let me warm up… then we'll see what you have left."

It wasn't until after I had watched him walk briskly towards the lockers to change that I realized Bruce had been watching me rather than the screen. I had always been able to read his physical expressions more accurately than the others and from the mixture of concern and frustration in his face and the tension in his shoulders and chest, I knew whatever he was about to say wasn't going to be nice.

"You need to go easier on her, she can't handle extreme physical activity, no matter how controlled her asthma is."

I countered with, "I've never gone easy on her. Made her adapt, develop… find a way to defend herself."

He hesitated before growling, "You're giving her false hope… that if she's as good as you that she can be you."

"Maybe she can be… Certainly seems determined enough."

That was not the answer he wanted.

His voice dropped half of an octave, easily taking on a low gravel that Tim could barely manage, "She doesn't need encouragement, Cassandra."

"You're right," I replied simply, "She doesn't," before turning back to the training bay.

No doubt the look on his face would have made the Joker wet himself.

^V^

"I have a confession, too."

Rather than enjoy the getaway Selina had planned, I had instead celebrated my forty-ninth birthday weekend driving through a blizzard. It wasn't that I minded the challenge, it was the fact that I had been so engrossed in making it home that I hadn't realized the ridiculousness of my plan until we had been three hours into a two hour ride home.

I had expected Selina to harass me the entire way but instead she had alternated between napping in the front seat, reading over drafts of new Preserve promotional material and making snacks out of the few groceries we had bought before heading out. When she had offered to slice up an orange for me, I was convinced she was either planning to poison me or she was simply buttering me up in order to kill me at a later point in the trip.

Considering Selina had selected a BMW sedan from the car rental at the airport, we had stopped there first thing to exchange it for something a bit more blizzard ready. After quickly touring the lot, I selected a brand new black Nissan Armada which would be more than capable to get us through the snow with a V8, lower final gear ratio and heavy duty battery. Selina thought that the main console between the front seats had more buttons than the Mobile and proceeded to count them in order to compare once we got home.

If we got home.

It wasn't that I had been uncomfortable driving in such dismal conditions, it had been the fear of others miscalculating their speed or panicking and veering into us rather than staying in their own lane. Shortly before Selina and I had been married we had both been grievously injured in a car accident at the fault of another driver while on our way into the city for dinner. And although we had both bounced back in time to exchange vows, it had always stayed with me.

In all the life threatening incidents Selina and I had faced in masks, we had nearly died for a simple night out.

When we had finally made it to Gotham, my back was on fire from inactivity and I had wanted nothing more but to head directly to the Cave in order to get caught up. Instead, Nathan had greeted me at the service entrance, already dressed in his snow suit, boots, hat and mittens, asking "Can you help me build a snowman, Daddy?"

Selina, who had walked in right behind me, had intervened, "Dad has some work to do, Nate, but I'll go out with you… maybe we can make a snow fort, too."

He had looked up at me and bit his lip for a fraction of a second before running out the door.

When I had turned to thank Selina, she had set a hand on my shoulder, "It's all right… I need to stretch my legs after the drive."

It was then I had decided she was planning on killing me in my sleep.

After arriving home Friday evening until eight the next morning, I had studied the evidence and footage Tim had gathered from the crime scene. Mattie had come down at some point late Friday with a steaming dinner plate of a portabella mushroom lasagna that tasted as if Alfred had made it. She stood by me, watching as I compared the new footage to videos we had on file. It was after the lasagna grew cold that I realized she had no intention of leaving.

I gave her the task of checking the news flags to see if anything was coming up on any live broadcast or news wire. Tedious but she went at it as if it were the most important part of solving the case.

After clearing my plate in slow, staggered bites, I had thanked her and bid her good night. When she had offered to stay up to help, since it wasn't a school night, I had glanced at the time display, shocked to see it was passed midnight.

"You best get upstairs, kitten… try to sneak in without your mother seeing you."

Mattie had grinned before kissing my cheek, "Night, Dad."

By the time I had made it upstairs the next morning, Mattie had already served breakfast but had saved me a plate. I had followed her into the kitchen, confused to see that my breakfast made up two plates, not one. She had been quick to explain as she poured me a cup of coffee, "I'm practicing an Irish breakfast for St. Patrick's day… technically you should be drinking tea with it but I figured you'd want the real stuff."

"I see," I had replied as I looked over the bacon, sausage links, a slice of corned beef under two over easy eggs, discs of potato hash as well as pair of fried tomato slices.

I had been tired before breakfast and after such an extensive meal, of which Mattie had supervised until the last bite was gone, I was exhausted. After making the long trek upstairs, I kicked off my shoes and collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep quickly on top of the covers. Thirty four hours earlier, I had fallen asleep with the tingle of ecstasy still coursing through my veins as my heart rate gradually retuned to normal.

Forever ago.

When I had woken, the room was bright with afternoon sun shining through open drapes. As I had rolled over to look at the clock, Selina had entered the room, "Tim just pulled up."

Sitting up, I had cleared my throat before replying, "Thank you." When my yes had finally found the bedside clock, I was surprised to see was already four in the afternoon.

As I had risen to my feet, Selina had added, "I'm going to take Ethan back to his parents, Nathan wanted to go along… Mattie's been down in the Cave with Cass since two."

"They came up separately?"

She had nodded before grabbing her purse off of the dresser, "Guess so. We should be back around six or so."

"All right," was all I had said as I watched her go.

After showering and changing into a dark sweater and slacks, I had quickly made my way downstairs, meeting Tim by chance in the study as he unlocked the entrance. Without exchanging a word, I followed him through the entrance just before it closed automatically.

From there, we had studied evidence on the Joker killing for the better part of an hour, all while Mattie. Although I had watched her work through various katas before, not to mention her gymnastics routines, I always had been mesmerized to see her in motion. She had reminded me so much of Selina that at time it was almost painful to watch her.

Tim had noticed my divided attention and had been quick to follow my gaze, "Girl's getting some talent."

"She was born with it," I had grunted before redirecting my focus back to the Joker.

After Mattie had headed upstairs and Tim went in to change to start his own workout, Cassandra had paused beside me at the computer bay, a proud smile on her face. Given how my thirteen year old daughter had faired in a full on spar with her, I should have had a similar look on my face. Instead, it had been a scowl, which had only deepened after my brief confrontation with her.

Knowing that if I did not make an appearance upstairs for both dinner and to spend time with my son Selina would drop a toaster into my next bath, I had left the Cave just after six. Once again, Mattie had prepared another Alfred caliber dinner with beef burgundy, partnered with garlic mashed potatoes and steamed green beans and mushrooms. Given the size of my breakfast, even missing out on lunch had done little for my appetite and I found myself sharing a slice of lemon raspberry cheesecake with Nathan for dessert.

From there, I had devoted the remainder of the night to Nathan and Mattie, partaking in a grueling round of Twister that had me contorted in ways even the most heinous yoga positions had left me unprepared for. From there, we had settled in the den to watch a few episodes of Sponge Bob, of which Mattie had spent Nathan's entire life schooling him in. I had been watching the program since Mattie was in diapers and I was still confused by the fact they managed to have campfires under water.

Tuckered out from his afternoon out with his mother, Nathan had fallen asleep after two episodes and I had gently picked him up off of the couch before telling Mattie to make sure she went to bed before midnight.

Curled up against the couch pillows, she had smiled up at me, "Only if you do."

Meow.

When we had made it to his room, Nathan had managed to wake up enough to change into pajamas with limited help. After I tucked him in, I had asked if he wanted me to read to him and he had shook his head before rolling onto his side. I had stayed until he fell back asleep, gently rubbing his back until his breaths came long and low.

Upon entering the master bedroom not fifteen minutes later, Selina and I finally had a moment to ourselves, of which I had decided was when she was going to unleash her fury on me.

Instead, she had simply said, "I have a confession, too."

"Oh?" I asked, using caution as I sat beside her.

She didn't reply until after I kicked off my shoes, "In case you were wondering, I didn't hire the Joker to kill someone so you would have a more amazing birthday than your forty-fifth…. But… I did have the blizzard rescheduled so we could have a memorable trip home."

Before I could fight it, I felt a smirk form on my lips.

My smirk grew, "Well, thank you."

"You are welcome."

I suddenly had an urge to talk to her about Mattie but reasoned that a conversation on such a topic would ruin her misleading good mood. Instead, I stated, "I thought you were mad at me, for making us come home early."

She reclined against the pillows, "Oh, I am… but I figure I can find a way for you to make it up to me."

"Oh? Do tell," I reclined beside Selina, opting to lay on my side in order to face her.

Shaking her head, Selina said, "Nope… It's going to be an IOU…. when I want something, you'll do it., no questions asked. Understood?"

I nodded and opened my mouth to say "Yes, dear" but she sealed my lips shut with the nails of her forefinger and thumb.

^V^


	4. Now And Then: IV

Title: Now And Then: IV

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language, adult situations and violence

Summary: Two weeks pass and the Joker picks up the pace. And the body count.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: The last point of view features a scene loosely based on the money counting scene of the second season of Reno 911! with Trudy and Dangle. Hilarity.

A/N 2: A million apologies for the delay, apparently it takes a long time to write thirty-two pages!

^V^

As I slowly made my way through the rear terrace doors of Wayne Manor, I couldn't help but think of the public service slogan, "It's two in the morning, do you know where your child is?"

It was half passed three and I was pretty sure my parents thought I was in bed.

Before leaving for Africa, Alfred and I had discussed that I needed a reason to be a hero and as much as I respected him, I knew he was wrong. Barbara had started her life as Batgirl to help people, to join the cause, not because she had witnessed the murder of her parents. Same as Tim, he had used his determination to force himself into a life of crime fighting, a life that my father had granted to him.

A life I wanted him to grant me.

A life I was going to have to make for myself.

I loved my father, but as my mother had told me time and time again, he was stubborn and often ignored the wants and needs of others, especially if they conflicted with his own. He wanted me to have a normal childhood, free from the dangers that he had introduced to Dick, Jason and Tim. I wanted nothing more but to stand on a rooftop, a cape billowing behind me.

Slight conflict there.

I knew he wanted to protect me, that was why he had lied about being Batman for so long. Forgiving him had been painful at the time but looking back, I knew it had been for the best. This was mostly because he had slowly brought me into his world, starting with that first anxious trip down the granite steps into the Cave. Since I had been younger than Nathan, Dad had taught me to think analytically about situations, whether it be homework or arguments with friends. And the most important part about being a hero was having a strong mind. Add in the fact that I had been training physically for a life as a crime fighter since I was in primary school and I was simply a costume and an identity away from joining my real Family.

And they needed help, now more than ever.

In the two weeks that had lapsed since the Joker had surfaced, he had killed eight more people. The first attack had been on a bank in Glendale, not five miles from where the drug store clerk had been killed. Alongside three armed men and Harley Quinn, he had gunned down six tellers before cleaning out the drawers and the vault. Before walking away with over six million in cash, he had filled out a withdrawal slip, writing in the total amount he had taken, signing "Mistah J" and scribbling a joke on the back.

_Old bankers never die, they just lose interest._

The second killing had taken place the previous night at an all night mechanic and towing place in Sommerset. After beating to death the two mechanics on duty with a wrench, he had stolen a purple Hummer from the secured lot behind the shop, signing in place of the actual owner of the vehicle and of course leaving behind another joke.

_Old mechanics never die, they just they just lose their bearings._

From what I had studied on the Computer, the Joker generally didn't go through the trouble of leaving connected jokes behind. And at any rate, the jokes were useless in terms of deducing and preventing the next crime because they only pertained to what was already done. Nevertheless, my father and Tim were determined they would be able to find a link between the seemingly random incidents. Of which was a good thing because it kept my dad occupied most nights well passed four.

For over a month, I had been practicing staying up late at night in order to build my tolerance up for less sleep. After catching a few hours of sleep right before school, I made it through the day with no problem, especially since I packed coffee in my thermos for lunch. Then, after school, I pretended to do the homework I had actually finished at school in my room while I actually napped before either gymnastics practices in town or my kata and exercises in Manor's gym and occasionally the Cave.

I was five-one and a hundred and eight pounds and I could easily out run, out lift and out throw most of the boys in my class. And the two grades above me.

After working my physical muscles, I worked my culinary muscle. Following dinner, I spent time with my family before washing up and going to bed "early" in order to start the day all over again by sneaking out of the house shortly after midnight. Although I didn't want my father to know about my nocturnal activities, I wanted nothing more for him to see the progress I was making in my gymnastics and martial arts. Unfortunately, he was so engrossed with the Joker killings that I was lucky to even get a few words out of him at dinner let alone while I was using the training equipment in the Cave.

However, there were others who _had _noticed. Cassandra constantly increased the challenges in our work together and I did my best to meet and surpass her expectations. Even Tim had a hard time not gawking at me as I either sparred with Cass or dominated the uneven bars. One day, Dick had dropped by the Townhouse and had watched on with Tim as Cass and I fought one another with bo staffs. Even as the poles clacked against each other, I had overheard him saying, "Damn, she really was born for this."

They knew, I knew, but Dad had no idea.

For the last fifteen days, I had been sneaking out of the Manor during the night, using a variety of exits. At first I only stayed out an hour or so, usually hiding in the garage or the work shed if it was nice enough to walk that far. With each night, I trekked further, stayed out longer. That night, I had made it practically into town on snow shoes, stopping to turn back when I had reached Terry's house.

As I glanced over his snow covered front yard, I had thought back to the week before when we had been preparing for the physical fitness test in school. Terry and I had been practicing the number of sit-ups we could do in under a minute, taking turns holding each others feet down and counting. To reach the coveted eighty-fifth percentile, I had to do forty-six and he had to do fifty-two.

The week before, I had averaged fifty-seven and he thirty-nine.

As he held my feet down that day, Terry smirked, "Take it easy, you'll make me look like a chump again."

I had smiled and proceeded to curl up even faster.

After I had completed fifty-nine sit-ups, we swapped positions and I knelt on his feet while he waited for the gym teacher to signal the start of the minute with his whistle. As I counted silently, Terry did his best to keep up a one-two rhythm and held his own for the first thirty-five seconds. When time was called, he had made it to forty-four.

"Not bad," I smiled, "For a chump."

He nodded, out of breath, "You just wait, I'll kick your ass in chin-ups," he raised his arms up, flexing his thin biceps.

I did the same, "Bring it."

Once we had completed the remaining parts of the test, including chin-ups, push-ups and the grab and reach flexibility test, the class was sent to the indoor track to walk a mile for cool-down. Terry and I had walked together, silent for the first lap.

He finally had asked, "Is everything okay?"

I had nodded with certainty, "Yeah," but my voice had been less convincing.

Terry had waited a few strides before continuing, "I've known you since we were six. You think I can't tell when you're lying?"

After glancing over at him, I had smirked before offering a shrug.

He had then leaned into me, pushing the side of his arm into mine, "Spill it, Wayne."

I couldn't so instead I had lied, "Want to go to the Spring Fling with me?" He had stopped suddenly and I walked a few steps passed him before turning to walk backwards. When he hadn't responded, I had continued, "Well?"

"I thought you said your Dad didn't want you to go because it was an all-school dance?"

When he had caught up with me, I pushed into him slightly, "What Dad doesn't know, won't hurt him."

"Well, all right," he had replied, "As long as he doesn't hurt me."

I had smiled up at him, "I'll protect you."

Just as my watch read four-fifteen in the morning, I quietly snuck through the service entrance and into the Manor. After shedding my snow pants and jacket, I carried them down to the laundry and proceeded to throw them in the washer. Even though Alfred had been gone for two months, I still had kept the room exactly how he liked it and intended to do so until he returned.

As I came back upstairs I stopped in the kitchen quick to get a glass of water before heading back upstairs.

Big mistake.

Dad had his back to me as he stood at the counter fighting with the coffee machine. I was about to quietly retreat when he spun his head around, staring at me with more confusion than surprise, "Kitten, what are you doing up?"

"Oh, I forgot to wash my gym clothes last night so I woke up early to do them this morning."

He turned back to the coffee machine, "Ah, well, I'll throw them in the dryer when they're done so you can go back to bed."

"It's okay, I don't mind staying up, besides I want to read through my newspaper article again for Effective Citizenship class," I replied as I approached him. When I paused at the counter and looked up at him, he took a step back and nodded.

After checking to see he had actually put the filter and the coffee grounds in correctly, all I had to do was change the setting to manual and then to coffee rather than espresso. As the machine went to work, Dad thanked me quietly before leaning his back against the counter, "So what's the article?"

"Brilliant former superheroes who can't operate kitchen appliances, it's fascinating."

He shook his head, "Very funny."

"Thank you," I bowed slightly before answering again, "Actually it's about the Preserve. The youth education center and what services they're going to offer to schools and organizations."

Dad nodded again, "I saw that."

"Mom looked very pretty in the picture."

"Mom looks very pretty in _every _picture."

After a minute of listening to coffee drip, I offered to make breakfast but he declined and insisted I head upstairs. Not wanting him to come upon wet snow pants in the washer, I told him that I didn't need them after all because I had new clothes Cass had bought for me last weekend.

"All right, kitten. Try to get some sleep."

I hugged him quickly before saying, "I will."

Once I made it back to my bedroom, I collapsed onto my bed, a smile on my face. Taffy, who had been curled up on my pillow, slowly rose, stretching her legs with each step before plopping beside me. I kissed her orange and white face and said, "That was a close one."

"Mrrow."

^V^

Predominantly, I spoke with the children and Ms. Selina in the late afternoon, eastern standard time. Occasionally in the late evening I would chat briefly with Ms. Cassandra, Ms. Barbara and Master Dick and very rarely was I able to converse with Master Tim. But in all honesty, it was completely understandable that he had opted to not waste time chatting when his attention was needed elsewhere.

But I hadn't spoken with Master Bruce until that morning.

Despite the fact that I could have easily returned to Gotham after hearing of the Joker's escape, Master Bruce had insisted that my presence would not make a difference in catching the mad man. Personally, I disagreed. In all previous attempts to capture the clown prince of crime, I had always provided a multitude of services. Aside from offering nourishment and medical treatment, I had often acted as a voice of reason, helping to find a path through the seeming illogical behavior by simply stating the obvious.

To which Master Bruce had always grunted at.

The good old days, as they were.

Over the last several weeks, the individual I had spoken with the most had been no other than Miss Mattie. As much as I tried to direct our discussions to the topics of her academics, social life and extracurricular activities, she always found a way to turn things down a much darker path. Our conversation from the week before had been particularly troubling, as she had described to me her nocturnal activities of late. Instinctually, I felt as if I were responsible to report such information immediately to Master Bruce.

However, without my physical presence in Gotham, I felt that he would overreact and send his daughter to a Catholic all girl's school, even whilst his wife clawed his eyes out.

In the end, I had decided it was best to think the matter over very carefully before proceeding, give it a few good nights of rest before acting. At the very least, perhaps my age-idled memory would falter and I would simply forget everything in its entirety.

One could only hope…

"And what are still you doing up, old man?"

I turned to see Leslie entering our bedroom, still clothed in soiled scrubs after her twelve hour shift at the clinic or rather her sixteen hour shift as it was just passed midnight and she had been due back at eight that evening.

After deftly pulling a book over the letter I had been writing, I replied, "Oh, just catching up on some reading."

She paused behind me, leaning over my shoulder before gently kissing my cheek, "Haven't you read everything?"

"Not quite… I believe I still have the encyclopedias left, from the letter Y onwards."

After standing upright, she snickered faintly before gathering fresh garments from the bureau we shared. Although the residence we lived in was fairly small, it was still comfortable considering the number of inhabitants. The others living with us kept their rooms tidy as well as the common areas. On Sundays, I had been more than willing to instate a traditional dinner, charging the rations with a little flair and flavor.

A miracle, many claimed.

Leslie sighed as she made her way out of the room, "I may be old, Alfred Pennyworth, but I'm not blind. The ink smudges on your hand says you've written at least three letters… and to think I forced you to stay home today to rest your hands."

"Guilty as charged," I responded even though I knew she had already left for the washroom.

Rather than needlessly stress my hands, Leslie had ordered me to take the day to myself of which I had obliged. With the residents hard at work tending to our many daily visitors, I had quickly cleaned up the general living areas as well as the room Leslie and I shared. After a light lunch, I had tended to the vegetable and flower gardens, weeding the lanes before enriching the soil. Afterwards, I recuperated with an ice pack on each hand and comfortable chair set before the window overlooking our small garden, mentally outlining the letters I planned on writing.

For Master Nathan it was words of encouragement for his newfound football activities as well as praise for his ongoing successes as a young student. For Master Dick and Ms. Barbara it was questions about the latest addition to the Family as well as commenting on any pictures they had forwarded to me in their last correspondence. For Master Tim and Ms. Cassandra, I commented on the good Leslie, myself and the other volunteers were accomplishing in the local communities and shared my certainties that they would be successful in apprehending the Joker, in due time.

In regards to Ms. Selina, I found myself offering advice on how to handle Master Bruce's behavior even though she had already mastered the task years ago. After all, she had managed to survive his return and subsequent retirement from the guise without either slaying him or losing her sanity. In the letters she returned, she had kept me updated on how the Family was really fairing, not the sugar-coated editions that I received from the others. In light of her frankness, I reasoned it was only proper to return the same.

One letter, shortly after the Joker had first made his ghastly presence known in Gotham, Ms. Selina had described a horrible dream she had suffered where Master Bruce had still been Batman and had lost in a final showdown against his arch nemesis. As I recalled, her exact words had been, "He didn't stand a chance… and when he called for help no one came."

Her words had stood out from the page because I myself had had a number of similar dreams since hearing of the Joker's escape.

"Who are you suffering for now?" Leslie asked as she entered the bedroom once more, washed and dressed in cotton pajamas under a thin robe. Although the days saw temperatures in the eighties, the nights cooled off rapidly in the absence of a blazing sun.

Glancing down at the top of the partially concealed letter, I read aloud, "Dear Master Bruce…"

"Has he written back yet?"

I shook my head while I set my pen down, "No, but his stubborn ways never deterred me while I stood at his side… there is no reason for it to change with an ocean between us."

Leslie paused for a moment before replying, "Well, I suggest you develop a case of writer's block and let it be until morning."

In all honesty, I had more than enough to write to my charge but the difficulty had been in sifting through the thoughts and concerns in order to present them without causing him to lose his reserve. This made the actual act of writing to him a long and tedious process.

After a moment of silent thought, I agreed, "I shall attend to it tomorrow."

Having already changed into sleepwear earlier that evening, I had little to do aside from securing the letter in progress in a leather folder atop the pages I had completed for the others. Despite not having felt the need for sleep, I gave in to slumber not long after laying in bed beside Leslie. Filmy dreams of wicked men and fallen heroes faded in and out, coming to an abrupt end upon the chime of the satellite phone.

A cursory glance at the analog bedside clock showed it to be approaching six-thirty, making it half passed two in Gotham City. I quickly donned a house coat, doing my best to qualm the fears that any late night phone call had brought to my life. I managed to answer on the sixth ring with a stoic voice, "Yes?"

The last thing I had expected from the other end of the line was a hushed growl followed by an audible wince, "Damnit…"

I hesitated before asking, "Master Bruce?"

"Sorry…" he said all too quickly before continuing, "Did I wake you?"

"Not in the least, sir, my day is just beginning as it were," I replied quietly as I took the phone out of the darkened bedroom, through the open main area of the house and out onto the front deck, moving silently as to not disturb the weary garnering what rest they could. "I must admit that although it is pleasant to hear from you, the manner in which you greeted me has brought me a bit of alarm…"

"Oh, right… it's nothing."

"Of course, sir."

"… Just a scratch."

"A scratch, sir? Has Taffy turned ravenous?"

He exhaled sharply before replying, although not to my question, "I think the cards are a decoy… I don't even think that he's behind them…"

"Sir?"

He swore under his breath again before continuing, "The Joker cards…"

"Ah, yes," I slowly reclined on a wooden chair, looking out just as the beginnings of dawn crept over the horizon, "I believe Master Timothy has mentioned them."

"I kept thinking that it had to be… had to be him. Distraction from the big picture but it had to be part of his plan."

"I take it something has arisen to change your usually fixated way of thinking?"

He winced again before offering a single chuckle, "A bump on the back of my head…" Before I could inquire into his meaning, Master Bruce continued, "The jokes… the key is with the jokes… Can I confide in you, Alfred?"

"As always, Master Bruce."

He hesitated once more before speaking in abbreviated quips, separated by winces, "I think he knows… Harley's a fool but even she can see the difference between myself and Tim… I think she figured it out when she got out of her cell at Arkham to see him and… when they escaped she told him…"

When his words faded into an undecipherable growl, I finally spoke up, "About this bump on the back of your head…"

He finally confessed that he had been continuing his undercover operations in Gotham several nights of the week. I thought this was interesting as it would explain his lack of awareness that Miss Mattie was also absent from her bed most nights. Maser Bruce then described, in muted detail, that he had finally been able to confront and individual who had been giving Joker cards away. After going the peaceful route, force had been required and after the confrontation, he had been able to ascertain that the gentleman had been doing so for his own purposes.

"I see…"

"Got in a lucky shot with a garbage can lid… only a few more stitches… Could use a hand though, arms are getting tired."

A smirk came over my lips as I replied, "I'm on my way, sir." When his soft sigh turned back into a growl, I continued, "Now, although I fear my mind is aged and forgetful, I do believe you are married."

"Didn't want to… bother her."

"Of course not," I smiled at the sight of a quartet of pygmy hippopotamus came into view not fifty yards off, shuffling towards the river that ran adjacent to our road. As something in the dark of dawn spooked them the four took off at a shuffling lope, revealing one smaller one trying to keep up with his infantile legs. "Might I suggest the capable hands of Dr.---."

Finally, the harsh snap I had been expecting arrived, "No, you may not."

Changing the subject back to the ghoulish clown, I questioned, "So you believe the jokes are to lure you back in order to confront him?"

"Yes…"

"And have you shared this with Master Timothy?"

"No… but I can tell it's on his mind. He just hasn't found it in him to bring it up to me."

As the pygmy hippos disappeared from sight, no doubt reaching the safety of the riverbed, I replied, "Not to impose upon your ever astute line of thinking, Master Bruce, but I do believe that the Joker rarely deviates from his goal."

There was a silent pause before I heard the clatter of stainless steel instruments being dropped into a glass beaker, "He never stops until he gets what he wants." I was unable to say the words aloud but fortunately enough Master Bruce had already known what they were and sighed, "Me… dead."

^V^

"Hey."

Smack.

"Hey."

Thud.

"Can… we talk?"

Whack.

"About what?"

Thud, whack.

"… About me being a flaming douche bag?"

I paused before striking the sand bag again, slowly turning to see Tim approaching the training bay. Even though it was a little after eight on a Saturday morning he seemed fully rested and ready for the day, a task considering I knew he hadn't gone home until after four that morning.

Mattie had invited Barbara, Ethan and myself up for brunch as well as Tim and Cassandra. Foolish me, I had deciphered "brunch" as a late morning meal and had assumed that we wouldn't head up to Wayne Manor until ten-thirty at the earliest. Barbara, however, wanted to spend time with Selina and had decided that we were going up at eight. Not wanting to sit idly by in the kitchen while Mattie began the early preparation stages of brunch, I opted to get an early morning workout in down in the Cave.

Or rather some much needed alone time beating the crap out of something.

I had grown considerably frustrated in the last few weeks but it wasn't entirely because the Joker was still lose, killing innocents while we chased after his Jack Be Nimble shadow. It was because my best friend, my "little bro", my fellow surviving former Robin had become someone I knew he wasn't.

He had become Bruce.

Not the Bruce we all knew and loved but the one we hated, the obsessive, uncaring, cold-hearted beast that took over Bruce's body whenever the odds were stacked against him. I had done my best to ignore the mannerisms, blaming them on stress and a lack of sleep but when Tim had snapped at me on the rooftop the night the Joker returned to his murderous ways, it sank home.

…_I was kidding…_

…_Well don't…_

Since he had taken the cowl, or rather had been given the cowl, Tim had been able to masterfully blend his way of fighting crime into the Batman. Amazingly enough, he had been successful in combining the best of both identities in order to be his own caped crusader. Over the years he had been beneath the pointy ears, he had claimed he was never going to end up like Bruce.

Ever.

And there we had been, sitting on a cold rooftop just as we had been for over a decade. I had cracked a joke and rather than roll his eyes or joke back, he had yelled at me as if I were a dumb sidekick. Naturally, rather than call him on it, I had let it slide for the time being so that it would be able to fester and boil in my gut. I had finally forced myself to confide in Barbara but her advice had been exactly what I hadn't wanted to do: talk to him.

I had replied something along the lines that he should apologize to me first but she had simply smacked my cheek, "Richard, be the big boy I know you are and talk to him… but first, change Ethan, he was making faces a minute ago." Even still, I refused to confront him first, deciding it was he who needed to be the big boy.

As I did my best to keep from picturing his face on the punching bag, I responded while resuming my alternating jabs and uppercuts, "I could talk about that."

He nodded before running a hand through his short, dark hair, "Want me to hold the bag for you?"

I kneed the sand bag twice, causing it to spin wildly on the chain that it was hanging from, "No, but if you want to stand in its place…"

"I think I'll pass," he remarked, remaining behind me and to my left as he continued, "I know I've been an ass and I'm sorry… It's easy to blame it on the Joker or pushing myself for too long and too hard but really it boils down to the fact that I let that mask get the best of me."

"It happens," I grunted before throwing a one-two combination jab and kick with my left limbs.

"It shouldn't though… and I'm sorry it did."

The sincerity in his voice caused me to stop and finally turn him fully.

Apologizing voluntarily, and meaning it, was definitely not Bruce-like.

I wiped sweat from my brow before nodding, directing my gaze to my bare feet, "Well, that's the first step to recovery from being Crazy Bat is admitting you were Crazy Bat."

Tim forced a smirk, "But the next step is tricky because you have to admit to a greater power and there is no greater power than Crazy Bat."

I shook my head and wagged a finger at him "Au contraire, my friend. There is such a power and his name is Chuck Norris." For emphasis, I threw an over the top roundhouse at Tim which he blocked while fighting back a true smile.

As we proceeded to spar, the tension that had been palpable a moment earlier dissipated with each blow we wielded upon one another. Tim put me in a head lock after kicking me just below my ribcage, "You know, if you had a dollar and Chuck Norris had a dollar, he'd have more money than you."

I managed to escape his grasp after slamming my bare heel in his instep while crashing an elbow into his abdomen, "And if Chuck Norris wants more cowbell, he gets more cowbell."

After spinning to place his back against mine, Tim's arms hooked themselves with mine and he dove forward into a somersault to slam me down face first into the mats, "He _can _believe it's not butter."

I went limp to make the fall less painful but instead of releasing him, I held fast to Tim's arms and did a backwards tuck in order to put him face down. As I sat on his lower back, I grabbed his left ankle, twisting it as I bent his leg while at the same time reaching back and performing a similar move on his right arm, "Chuck Norris can win Connect Four in three moves."

Tim's free hand came back and stabbed me just below the armpit and when I released his other hand he arched his back and flung me off of him before jumping to his feet, "There's no control button on Chuck Norris's keyboard because he's always in control."

We kept joking back and forth for the better part of twenty minutes until finally we were both physically and mentally spent. As we walked towards the showers, I set a hand on Tim's shoulder, "I think you're ready for the third step little bro."

"Which is?" he asked as he glanced over at me quickly.

"Turn your life over to Chuck Norris."

"I'm not growing a beard," he growled jokingly.

"All right but you have to at least wear the outfit."

He paused at the entrance of the spacious, cold room and nodded reluctantly, "Okay… but not the jeans… I might want to have children some day."

We showered and changed quickly in order to head upstairs for brunch. The dining room table was set and most of the attendees were already taking their seats. I offered to help Mattie bring in the food but she said Cassandra was her sous chef for the day.

"Maybe you can take drink orders?" Barbara joked as she settled Ethan into his high chair.

Nathan pointed to his chest suddenly, "I'm taking d-wink oh-dehs!"

Barbara set a hand on my forearm and looked up at me apologetically, "Sorry, I didn't get your hopes up did I?"

"I'll manage," I sighed heavily while sitting on the other side of Ethan. I sat back and cleared my throat loudly and the young child looked up at me and grinned.

There were a few sounds Ethan had associated specifically with me, clearing my throat being one of the first I discovered. The two others that instantly focused his attention on me included my saying "Wha' happened?" as well when I declared in a high pitched voice, "Stinky stinky stinky!" in mockery of a garbage bag commercial.

When his eyes began to wander, I cleared my throat again and his crystal blue eyes shot back to mine this time the smile came with a squeal and a giggle. I reached out and gently tickled his neck and as he squirmed away, Barbara's hand flashed out and smacked me upside the back of my head.

"What?" I cried out in shock.

"You do this every time before he eats… you get him all worked up and then leave me to try and feed him."

I shook my head, "I do no such thing…" I glanced down at my son who was pressing his tiny hands against his empty Franklin the Turtle ceramic plate.

And then I cleared my throat.

Before Barbara or even Selina could yell at me for causing the child to erupt in loud, squealing laughter, I heard a quick and terse, "Richard."

I didn't need to look up at the atrium between the dining room and the hallway to know that it had come from Bruce, but it didn't stop me. He, like Tim, seemed alert and ready for the day despite running on a mere handful of sleep. As I glanced between Bruce and Tim, I fought a smirk seeing they had even dressed similarly in dark stone washed jeans and dark button down shirts of gray tees.

As I suppressed a shudder, I apologized, "Sorry, maybe I shouldn't sit next to him if I'm---," I couldn't finish over Ethan's giggles and cries.

Barbara growled something at me before trying to entice Ethan to settle down with his bottle of formula. Seemingly off the hook, I glanced to Tim and said, "Yeah, maybe you should wear the jeans… save you from the agony of this."

We garnered confused looks from everyone as we chuckled to ourselves, which only drew more looks when Tim replied, "Fine, still no beard."

"Keep hating on C-Nor and it'll bite you."

"Nay… it will roundhouse me."

At that, I found myself laughing far louder than my son ever would.

After Mattie and Cass served the food and Selina helped Nathan pour juice, milk and coffee for everyone, I did my best to be the big boy that Barbara knew I could be. Since it was a Family brunch, talk stayed light and far from the topics that we actually cared about. We joked about Tim spilling a dollop of syrup on himself and talked about Mattie's upcoming horse show season and Nathan's indoor Junior PeeWee football practices.

Had it been dinner and had Ethan, Nathan and perhaps even Mattie been safely tucked into bed I was certain the conversation would have been grim and gritty.

With everyone distracted by brioche French toast as well slices of baguette topped with poached eggs, andouille sausage, gouda cheese and a spiced hollandaise sauce, the conversation dropped off abruptly, leaving the big room to be filled with the clatter of silverware and chiming of glass. Apparently there was even enough background noise to convince my wife that I cleared my throat when in fact it had come from further down the table.

More specifically, from my son's grandfather.

"Dick," Barbara warned as she redirected Nathan's focus on his mashed bits of French toast.

"But…" I began as I looked to Bruce.

He ignored me and complimented Mattie, "This is delicious, kitten."

"Thanks, Dad," she smirked at him before tasting her orange juice.

I sighed and went to return to my own breakfast when Bruce did it again, utilizing his long neglected and yet freakishly perfected skill of ventriloquism. Sure enough, I was blamed for Ethan slapping his hands down on his mushy food, sending it flying into my wife's hair.

When I looked to Bruce again, he winked at me.

Later, after brunch ended without any other flying food incidents, I walked with Tim back down to the Cave asking him if he had noticed my being framed.

He nodded and set a hand on my shoulder, "Yeah… which had me thinking about the hierarchy of greater powers… I still think Bruce beats Chuck Norris."

After a reluctant nod, I agreed and added, "You're right… mainly because most people wear Superman pajamas…"

He finished with a true Tim Drake grin, "And Superman wears Batman pajamas."

^V^

"Hey, kiddo, Kat's on the phone---," I announced as I opened my daughter's bedroom door.

After brunch, rather than take on the role of the hostess with the most-ess, Mattie had left the den for her bedroom in order to work on her creative writing assignment. I had been a bit confused but she had been quick to explain that she desired to spend that night at Katarina's and wanted to make sure her homework was done before she enjoyed the rest of the weekend.

"If that's okay," she had smiled up at me brightly.

I had looked to Bruce who had just taken a seat on one of the couches with Ethan in his lap, "Well, really it's up to your father."

Mattie had trotted over to him while asking angelically, "Father?"

"Daughter?" he had looked at her, doing his best to remain passive.

Even though there had been no need to push the charm on Bruce, Mattie had played the part of the doting and loving child to perfection, no doubt fueled by the that fact that we had company. Without hesitation, she had planted a kiss on his cheek, batting her eyes before staring up at him.

Ice staring into ice.

"Please, Daddy."

Although he had done a remarkable job holding back his smirk to that point, Bruce had become powerless for a moment and nodded as a smile flashed over his lips for a fraction of a second.

"Thank you!" she had declared before kissing him again. After touring them room to say a rushed string of farewells, Mattie had skipped out of the room and towards the stairs.

"Such a happy child," Tim had commented as he reclined into the back of the couch.

After sitting beside Bruce, I reached up and ran a hand over the back of his head gently, grinning as he winced. Letting my hand fall to rest behind his back, I had replied, "I don't know where she gets it…"

He had arrived to bed earlier that morning muttering to himself in the dark and smelling of betadine. I had feigned sleep until he was in bed beside me, sighing before asking what he had done to himself on the "much safer than when I was Matches" undercover stint the had been working at for the last two months.

"Just a scratch," he had replied before gesturing to the back of his head.

"Only I'm allowed to scratch you," I had growled.

He had then recounted his evening, his words coming even and with purpose as any formal debriefing would. Apparently he had found a gentleman at a strip club who had been showing off a Joker card to a woman in order to entice a free lap dance out of her. After asking very nicely, he then had been indicated to the man who had handed out the card. Upon following the man outside at the end of the night, Bruce had attempted to politely question him.

"And?"

"… And he tried to take me out with a steel garbage lid."

"Ouch… Although… It seems to me that you're just so happening to find these people at strip clubs…" I had joked.

"Evil lurks in evil places."

"Naked women are evil?"

He had leaned towards me and I felt sandpaper on my cheek while he planted a kiss next to my ear, "All of them… except you."

Despite his less than pleasant evening, Bruce was up at seven-thirty to fulfill his promise to his children that they would swim that morning. I, on the other hand, had opted to stay in bed for another fifteen minutes, wrapping my arms around Bruce's still warm pillow. After languidly rising, I washed up and dressed for the day before heading downstairs to see how water-logged the rest of my family had become.

I had entered the vast pool room just in time to see my son's glorious cannon ball into the deep end, sending waves over my daughter's head as she treaded water. When Mattie had coughed out the water that had gone in her mouth, she began yelling at Nathan even before he had surfaced.

Bruce, who had been sitting on the edge of the pool with his legs hanging in the water, did little to intervene beyond, "Nathan, you need to call out when you plan on jumping into the water."

After grasping the edge and climbing out, Nathan had nodded before spinning around taking flight once more into the pool, "Caaannnoonnballl!"

"Dad, tell him to stop it," Mattie said after she had managed to recover from another onslaught of waves.

I had paused directly behind Bruce and kicked him in the lower back, "Parental supervision, Bruce," when he had looked back at me, I had continued, "Parent. Supervise."

The next time Nathan surfaced, Bruce had told him he was instilling a "no cannon balls before noon" rule in Wayne Manor. Naturally in protest, Nathan had once more climbed out of the pool and put his hand son his hips before aiming a glare and monstrous whine at his father, "That's not fai-uh!"

Bruce had stood, shaking the water from his legs before he had countered, "Life is fair, now and then. Unfortunately, now it's not."

Nathan had growled in true tiger form before he had stomped out of the pool room.

Probably not the opportune moment, but I had stepped forward and had kissed Bruce on the cheek, "Good morning."

Not thirty minutes later, Dick and Barbara had arrived with Ethan, and it wasn't long after that Tim and Cass arrived. With the big boys downstairs, the rest of us had spent the morning in the den, watching Ethan toddle about, with Mattie close behind in case he fell.

It wasn't an hour after that we had brunch as a Family even though Mattie had wanted everyone up for dinner the night before. I had suggested brunch for hope that the day light would make the night life stay at bay.

Even still, I had wondered if any of the others were aware of the eight stitches in the back of Bruce's head.

Odds were they had no clue.

By the time our guests departed it was well after noon. After their disagreement that morning, Bruce had decided he was going to spend some alone time to talk with Nathan. With my daughter hard at work and husband and son reconciling, I had been left to my own devices. Normally, it would have been a perfect chance to share a pot of lemon herbal tea and either a comforting conversation or a one-way rant with Alfred, to which he would gladly receive.

Normally…

Although curling up in a chair with a book in the library had been appealing, I had opted for an hour of yoga in the morning room followed by a catnap in the sauna. Although the hot tub had been appealing, I had opted out considering it would be a waste if I had been alone. A shower and a fresh robe later, I had made it upstairs just to catch the phone ringing on the third floor hall.

Opening Mattie's door, I found her not at her desk hacking away at her computer with a fervor to make Oracle proud, but instead lying on her bed with Taffy cuddled up beside her. After quietly telling Katarina to call back in an hour, I hung up and crossed the room on tip toe. Taffy opened an eye at me before resuming her own cat nap.

I carefully removed the open note book from Mattie's lap and held it under my arm in order to cover her with a light quilt. Before setting the book down on her desk, I went to close it but the markings on the page caused me to look more closely.

Although no artist, it wasn't hard to see what my daughter had been sketching, no doubt from the moment she had made it to her bedroom after brunch. At first glance, one would assume she had been taking a strong initiative on designing a Halloween costume. But given the detailed notes on the margin indicating the measurements of the garments as well as a list of items under the heading "Borrow from the Bat-Cave" I knew it was far more than playing dress-up.

Not wanting to know any more than I already did, I set the book back down and exited the room as quietly as I had entered. After telling Katarina ro call back later, I hung the phone back up on its charger and made my way to Nathan's room to see he was also asleep, tucked in beside his stuffed dog.

And behind door number three…

Bruce wasn't in bed but rather standing at his bathroom sink trying to check out his sutures in the mirrors. He was contorting his head around that had me wondering if he also had been spending his afternoon doing yoga as well. When he caught me out of the corner of his eye, he stopped and faced me.

"Prognosis?" I asked.

He grunted before walking passed me back into the bedroom, "I'll live."

As I followed him, I noticed he too had a book open on the bed but rather than sketches of crime fighting costume, it was Alfred's journal . Despite his time being consumed by the Joker and paternal duties, he had been religiously reading through the journal almost every day, often reading it aloud to Nathan before bed.

"How old are we today?" I asked as I sat on the bed.

After he joined me, Bruce took the book into his hands, "Six. And a half."

Reclining against the pillows, I patted the space beside me and said, "Read to me."

"I didn't hear the magic word…"

"Read to me… now."

"Yes, dear."

I smacked him in the face with a pillow and he made no outward response aside from turning the page while clearing his throat. "August eighth, nineteen-sixty-six---."

"Also known as the first stone age…" I snickered and when he began to shut the journal in protest, I moved closer to him, resting my head beside his on the pillow, "I'm sorry. Please, do tell me what young Master Bruce was up to… and say Master Bruce, that way it sounds more Alfred-y."

Bruce continued after a moment, "I woke this morning to the sound of Master Thomas making his way down the stairs at half passed four. Given the care he was using in quieting his foot falls, I determined it was not a family emergency but rather one pertaining to the hospital . Knowing he would make a quick stop to the kitchen to fetch a cup of horrid instant coffee that he hid in the pantry behind the apple cider vinegar, I donned my robe and slippers before descending to the ground floor as well.

"As anticipated, he was standing at the stovetop waiting for a kettle to come to a boil. Before I could announce my presence, he glanced over his broad shoulder, 'Sorry, Alfred, afraid there's no time for breakfast.' And even though I had no expectations to convince him otherwise, I had responded with, 'I believe I once heard that breakfast was the most important meal of the day…'

"He had smirked ever so slightly and conceded, 'All right, something quick, then.'"

I glanced up at Bruce and saw a smirk, no doubt subconsciously shadowing his father, forming on his lips. After shifting closer to him, I commented, "So Alfred has always had control of Wayne men, interesting…"

Bruce nodded before continuing, "Something quick had been in the form of over easy eggs, wheat toast and cottage cheese blended with raspberry preserves. I would have preferred to add another side considering it was most likely going to be his only meal for the day. Without prompting on my behalf, Master Thomas began explaining that a colleague had been called away on a family emergency, thus forcing him into the hospital on his day off. I remained silent as I tended to the dishes, listening to him list off the surgeries awaiting his arrival as he ate quickly and methodically. When he offered me his empty plate and dirtied utensils, I found my voice, 'Shall I relay said information to Master Bruce?'"

Bruce hesitated once more, his voice coming more softly as he read, "Master Thomas was unable to disclose the tortured look on his weary face, 'Tell him… I'll make it up to him next weekend.' To which I had curtly replied, 'Very well, sir.'"

Remaining silent as Bruce read the remainder of the journal entry, I listened as he read over the details of how Alfred spent his day taking a six-year-old Bruce to the Natural History Museum in Thomas's stead. As with every entry that I had been able to listen to, Alfred left his musings and internal thoughts for the end, almost in the form of closing argument. That day, he had wondered if Thomas's dedication to the people of Gotham was worth missing the most important time of his son's childhood.

I couldn't help but think back on a number of arguments Bruce and I had when he was lurking in dark alleys while Mattie was toddling about.

After he closed the leather bound journal, I kissed his cheek gently before asking, "So, did he make it up to you?"

"We'll find out when we get there."

"You don't remember if he did or not?"

Bruce sat up in order to set the book on the bed side table. Rather than recline back down beside me, he chose to remain upright as he answered, "It's impossible to discern every morning I came running downstairs, ready to spend the day with my father only to have Alfred tell me he had been called away to the hospital."

I sat up as well, uncertain as to whether I should respond or not.

When I chose not to, he continued, "I do remember, though… he took my mother and I to the county fair the next weekend. Must have gone on the Ferris wheel with me a dozen times."

^V^

Even though I had wanted nothing more but to return home and sleep away the afternoon, I had a hard time leaving Bristol without visiting my father.

After brunch, Dick and I had made our way down to the Cave where Bruce had wanted to meet with us. We had spent the ten minutes waiting for him to join us by tooling around on the Computer, forming a rough outline for the night's patrol while musing as to what he wanted to talk to us about.

When nearly silent footsteps approached us, Dick had leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Whatever he says, plead the fifth."

By the time Bruce stood before us, Dick and I had taken on similar expressions of slight interest on our faces, of which had most likely been the cause of the odd look that came over Bruce's.

He had cleared his throat before saying, "I questioned an individual last night responsible for distributing Joker cards in the East End."

"What did he say?" I found myself asking.

Bruce reached a hand back and scratched his head before replying, "After a slight confrontation he admitted he was handing them out to men he was hiring to deal Ecstasy at night clubs and bars. I found about three grand worth of drugs on him, mostly in capsule form. He gave each men a card and depending on their level of experience a certain amount of drugs to push."

He stepped forward and brought up a Gotham City jail file on a thirty-six year old man named Reginald "Reggie" Sheppard. The perp's face had certainly seen better days as the photograph showed numerous scars on his face and neck as well as wrinkles at his eyes and mouth. The laundry list of arrests and convictions included aggravated assault, robbery, battery, carrying a concealed weapon and possession of narcotics with the intent to sell.

He had been in and out of Blackgate since the age of eighteen.

"Damn," Dick had muttered, "Wait… why was he handing out Joker cards?"

Bruce had explained, "The X he was pushing was nicknamed Laugh Attack."

"What? And he thought it would be a better marketing campaign to tie his work in with the Joker's escape?" Dick had commented before adding, "Lucky we found him before the Joker did… Talk about a laugh attack."

We discussed the latest information for another twenty minutes or so before Barbara beckoned dick upstairs so she could get Ethan home for his nap.

Leaving me alone with Bruce.

After a silent minute, I had finally spoken, "Didn't know you were still going out."

He nodded slightly, his eyes never leaving the monitor as he skimmed the list we had compiled of individuals receiving Joker cards, "Just a few nights a week."

"Ah," I had replied, "Well if you keep it up, let me know, maybe we could---."

"I won't be. Not after last night." He finally took the empty chair before the computer console and I smirked to see the fresh sutures on the back of his head. Even though most of his hair was a dark, steely gray, the crown of his head was a shade lighter making the angry red line all the more visible.

I had noticed them at brunch but hadn't made any indication of it. Just as when Bruce had been Batman, he never made a broadcast that he had been injured. I couldn't count the times we had patrolled side by side while he had been suffering in secret from a grazed bullet wound or broken knuckles. And just as he kept his pain quiet, he expected others to do the same.

"Nice… my stitch jobs come out looking like they were done by a blindfolded Dr. Frankenstein."

Although I had expected Bruce to remain silent, he had surprisingly commented, "It's impossible to compare with Alfred's seamless sutures."

"That it is," I had smiled, "Heard form him lately?"

He shook his head, his attention back to the keyboard and monitor.

"I don't think I've talked to him in weeks but Cass and I just sent a letter and some pictures of our herb garden in the making the other day."

Bruce had glanced over his shoulder at me as if I had told him that I had been taking scuba diving lessons with Killer Croc. I had quickly explained that Cass and I had started a couples cooking class that met each Wednesday night and we were required to grow our own herbs.

"Ah."

"Actually, I cook, she eats…, "I had smirked before adding, "I know, sounds lame but it's nice to picture the Joker's face when I'm tenderizing meat."

He had smirked before returning to the computer.

It was another twenty minutes before I decided to head out myself. I left Bruce to his tedious work of completely refiguring our theory behind the Joker cards. Once back in the Manor, it took a tour of the ground floor to find Cassandra helping Mattie dry dishes. As she finished her task, I told her that I had thought about dropping by next door to see Dad.

"What about the boy?" she had asked as she dried the last coffee cup.

"Hmm, good point…"

"I'll go home… You can visit."

"You sure?"

Cass had relinquished her hand towel to Mattie before nodding, "Yeah, besides, you need to play catch up. Not me."

After thanking Mattie for brunch, I hitched a ride with Cass down the driveway but opted to walk up the drive to Dad's. When she looked at my quizzically, I had replied, "Can't surprise him if he hears a car pull up."

She had rolled her eyes at me, "Weird-o."

"That's right, Mrs. Weird-o," I had leaned in and kissed her cheek before stepping out of the car.

"Not yet!" she had called out before I shut the door.

Even though the morning had been chilly, noon had brought abundant sunshine and the ten minute walk up to my father's house had actually been comfortable. Rather than pass through the front door, I snuck around to the service entrance and carefully made my way inside. After wiping my shoes on the small rug, I crept down the corridor following the sound of my father grumbling, seemingly to himself.

Coming into the main den, I smiled to see him sitting on the white carpeted floor with his back to me. Before him sat a number of small speakers, screws strewn about as well as a cordless power drill. I watched on as he skimmed through a small instruction manual, grumbling, "What the hell is an S-Video connector?"

"The round plug, Dad, with the four little metal pins."

He spun around and as I offered a smirk, he got to his feet, "It's funny, I was just about to call you… Dana bought this Sony Dream stereo system but left me all alone to install it." Dad closed the space between us and took me into an awkward embrace before patting my back, "Good to see you, stranger."

"You, too, Dad."

He looked behind me and into the hall, no doubt looking for Cass.

"Oh, she headed back into the city to walk the dog and catch up on some things at the house."

Dad stepped back to the chaos on the floor before sitting down, "Been next door?"

I nodded before joining him, "Yeah, just for a bit." I proceeded to arrange the speakers before me as they would be when properly mounted on the walls. When I continued to make order of the mess my father had made of the home theater system, I added, "Where's Dana?"

He untangled a pair of input wires before replying, "Oh, she went to a spa day thing with a few friends. I planned on getting this installed so I? could sit back and enjoy a movie…"

I took the double ended red and white composite audio cords from him before standing, "Here, if you want to plug this end into the TV and the other end into the Blu-Ray player…"

Dad got to his feet as well and did as I directed, "What's this for?"

"Sound. Then that s-cable, the black one, that'll be visual…"

After he had both cords correctly attached, he nodded back to the carpet where a lone double ended red cord sat, "What about that one?"

I shook my head, "It's for video but it's not high quality… you want the S-Video, much better quality picture."

Dad hit the power button on both devices and smiled to see the plasma screen come to life. As he popped in a disc, he smiled at me, "Guess all those years you spent playing video games actually had a purpose."

"Guess so," I replied.

We spent the next hour trying out different locations for the speakers, playing with the receptors and testing the sound layers as Rescue Dawn played on the screen. After finally locating the positions for the ultimate movie experience, we drilled the speakers into place. Rewarding ourselves for such a grand accomplishment, Dad and I sat together on the overstuffed tan couch to watch the remaining forty minutes of the film.

"Damn," Dad commented as the bullets whizzed by Dieter Dengler as he narrowly escaped Thai militants pursuing him, "Sounds like we're right there."

"A magnetically shielded, enclosed bass reflex on the sub-woofer will do that," I replied.

He glanced over at me before looking back to the screen. Interestingly enough, it was the exact same look Bruce had given me when I had told him Cass and I were in a cooking class. I could only have imagined what he would have looked like if I had told him that we were engaged…

Either one of them for that matter.

To date, the plan to keep the engagement a secret from everyone had been successful, especially considering that nothing had changed in our relationship. Save for the fact that we sometimes gave each other high five's when no one was looking in order to celebrate our grand accomplishment. Cass had pointed out the other weekend that it was actually easy to hide it from everyone, far easier than it had been for Dick and Barbara to conceal their adoption of Ethan. We had been debating over what kind of cake to get, which somehow had taken precedent over a date, wedding party and all other factors of a wedding.

As I had narrowed my top choices down to red velvet and marble, I had inquired, "Why is that?"

"Everyone's distracted… even us."

If there was one thing I loved about Cass, it was her honesty.

"So… anything new?"

I shrugged as I sat back into the couch, "Not really… except I think I might pick me up one of these home theatre systems on the way home."

Dad nodded, his smile growing before disappearing completely, "No… I meant… I mean if you don't want to talk about it, I understand…"

Sighing, I let my head drop slightly to look at my hands as they rested in my lap. Towards the end of my career as Robin, I had finally confessed to my father the real reason I was distant, why I was skipping school and why I woke most mornings with fresh bruises and bags beneath my eyes. Completely unexpected, he had seemed genuinely accepting of it, almost relieved that I wasn't on the other side of the law.

But I could tell he had been hurt that I had spent so many years lying to him.

To his face.

I stomached a sudden urge to tell him I had proposed to the only woman on Earth who could easily take out the entire League of Assassins after dominating a leaning tower of pancakes at IHOP. Instead, I kept my eyes focused on the calluses on my palms and replied, "No, it's okay… Pretty much all I talk about these days anyway."

"Forget I mentioned it---."

"No," I looked up to him, "Really… Actually there's not much to say…"

He hesitated before tentatively asking, "No leads at all?"

Shaking my head, I admitted, "Many leads, none of them leading anywhere. He… Generally, career criminals want to be caught. They thrive on that confrontation and then the thrill of narrow escapes. They'll leave behind hints to the next crime, even if it's done subconsciously. But with the Joker… he's not in it for the thrill of the chase."

"He just in it for the hell of it."

I nodded, "Pretty much… It's hard to predict what path he'll take because he's completely unpredictable. In the past he's done everything from randomly shooting people as he walked down the street to carrying out elaborate schemes that are planned to perfection… Right now it seems random but…"

"But what?"

After looking at him once more, the words came all too easy, "Right now I think he's just laughing at us."

^V^

"Six-hundred thousand, four hundred and thirty-five…"

"Ever wonder why numbers are _numbers_, why aren't they words?"

"Six-hundred thousand, four hundred and forty-five…"

"Gosh, it feels like we've been counting for like five hours… but I guess it's only been like two hours but when you're in a warm room it makes it feel longer, like it's been eight hours…"

"Six-hundred thousand, four hundred and fifty-five…"

"Hey, hey, Puddin'? Gimme five! Ha ha!"

"Six-hundred thousand, four hundred and fifty…"

"No, but don't you think it's funny that numbers are numbers? What if like five was Watermelon… or ten was Santa Claus…"

"Six-hundred thousand, four hundred…"

"Or maybe if ten was Peanut Butter and twenty was Porcupines…"

"Six-hundred thousand…"

"And fifty would be Dance Class…"

"… Harley…"

"Yeah, Puddin'?"

The back of my hand colliding with the side of her head sounded loudly in the hotel room but was then lost to her yelp of surprise followed by the crash of her and the chair as they both fell over.

I looked back to the money sitting in my hand sighed before continuing,

"Six-hundred thousand, four hundred and sixty-five…"

Harley peered over the edge of the table as she sat on the linoleum floor. She waited to rise until I had finished counting out four hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars of our hard earned money.

"Although you do have a point, Harl."

"I do?"

After searching the pile of cash yet to be counted, I lined up a five, a ten, a twenty, a fifty and a hundred dollar bill in numerical order. I then located a purple magic marker from my coat pocket, being careful not to grab the recently sharpened vegetable peeler. On the hundred, I drew a stick figure, adorning it with two pointy ears and a jagged edged cape. For the fifty, another stick figure although this one wore only a little mask and mullet. The twenty received a smaller stick figure with an R on his chest while the ten was similar to the hundred with the exception of boobs.

Lastly, the five was decorated with another female stick figure, but a two cup sizes larger.

"I don't get it," Harley declared over looking over each of the bills.

"Of course you don't, kiddo… You see this," I pointed to the largest bill, "Is what I want most."

"A hundred bucks? But you have hundreds of---."

"No!" I slammed my fists on the table hard enough to knock a few stacks out of place.

Harley gulped audibly before taking her lower lip hostage between her little white teeth.

After adjusted the money back to order, I explained, "This… is Batman."

She slowly released her lip before asking, "But I thought that… you know he's…"

"He very well may be but I always thought of myself as an optimist… Life gives you lemons, squeeze the juice into the security guard's eyes and make a run for it…"

After a curt nod, a smile finally began creeping over her lips.

"But unfortunately life may give you lemons but it doesn't give you one hundred dollar bills."

There was another moment of silence before Harley asked, "So… you have to steal them?"

I shook my head at her, tsk-tsking ever so softly, "Silly me, I forget how small your mind is… You're not seeing the big picture, Harl… You have to work your way up, start with the small bills," I pointed to the five, "To get to the big ones," and then to the hundred. "Now, we can take this one away right off the bat, so to speak," I removed the twenty and crumpled it up before tossing it to the floor, "Which leaves us with four…"

"Actually it's a hundred and sixty-five."

I glared and she visibly cowered.

Initially, I had been unable to settle on a plan of action in regards to seeking my revenge upon those in masks and booties. Naturally, it had been very frustrating as I had never faced such a dilemma in my entire life. Planning the agonizing demise of those who opposed me or even worse those stood in the way of wholesome fun, had been second nature to me.

But the very second I had filled that drug store clerk full of hair dye it had all come together. The only way to get to the Bat was to lure him out of his cave and the best way to lure the Bat was with Bat-Bait. Kidnapping sidekicks or police commissioners had always done the trick before but with Gordon dead and Robin's green booties traded in for Daddy's black booties, a slight tweak was needed.

A slight tweak in the form of rather than him finding me, I planned on finding him.

"So, we have to kidnap the Huntress to get to Batman?"

"A nice chat would suffice," I replied as I picked up the five dollar bill. After ripping it into tiny pieces, I flung the bits into air and smiled as they fell back down. "And if that doesn't work, then it's on to the next Bat-Babe…"

After shredding the ten, I proceeded to lift the fifty, crumpling it as I declared, "And then if she doesn't spill the beans, it's on to the Boy Wonder."

"What about the Batman… well the one that's him right now?" she asked quietly.

"Don't fret my pet…" I took the hundred dollar bill into my hand and ripped it in half so that it bisected the stick figure, "We won't forget about him…"

I wasn't sure what bothered me more: the fact that the third Robin had taken the mantle of the Bat or that he had been allowed to live long enough to do so. Although I loathed all minions that stood in the way of my time with my Batsy, the third one had always held a special place in my cold heart. After all, he had single handedly caught me before he had grown his first armpit hair. Even though I had made numerous attempts on his life over the course of time, I had never managed to beat his little green masked face in with a crow bar…

But now, even with him playing dress-up in Daddy's costume, I seemed to be the only one prepared to fight the good fight.

After my court ordered nap had commenced, many of the Rogue's had surfaced for one last hoorah but had ultimately fallen to the masked neighborhood watch before being sent back to Arkham. What was possibly even worse was the fact that no-name rookies managed to bring more disorder and chaos to Gotham with their one-hit wonders than any of the Rogues had in the last decade.

Icarus… setting fire to things…

Hades… dealing drugs…

Pathetic.

And of my former colleagues? Ivy killed a banker. Harvey killed two people and kidnapped two kids. The brainless Scarecrow hadn't so much as scared a parakeet before getting caught. Catwoman no doubt had been de-clawed and reduced to sniffing catnip as a means of entertainment. Poor Eddie had tried another brilliant crime spree but his riddles had been the end of him. Honorable mention might have gone to good old Black Mask save for the fact that he had fallen low enough to get in on sex trafficking.

Most recently had been when Zsasz had his way with a few of his so-called "zombies".

Now there was a real psycho.

It was no wonder Bats gave up on this city. That Gordon lost his will to fight the good fight, even before his body turned against himself. Even my own Harley had lost a big of the life in her eyes…

This city needed a reason to smile again.

"Hey, puddin', why are we counting anyway?"

I cracked my knuckles enthusiastically, "To pay Bo Bo."

"… Who's Bo Bo?"

As sudden rap at the front door caused her to jump slightly and I answered as I rose to my feet, "That is Bo Bo… Be a good girl and let our guest in."

After staring at the neatly organized columns of money, I haphazardly shoved it all into a canvas duffle bag. I had to guesstimate what sized bag, using the age old trick of _How many bodies would fit_? as a standard. Although it was a tight fit, I was surprised that all of the cash would fit in a two and a half-er.

"Bo Bo, glad you could make it," I declared after finally forcing the zipper closed.

As I turned to face one of my newest allies in the war on crime fighters, I was surprised to see he had been roughed up a bit. If I had cared about his well being I would have asked what had happened but I didn't so I didn't.

Patting the overstuffed bag, I said, "This should be enough to get things set up… and a little extra of course… We're only going to get one shot at this so we might as well go all out!"

"Sure thing, boss."

"Now," I paused before looking to Harley. After grabbing a few hundreds off the table, I handed them to her, "Why don't you go on a little shopping spree, Harl… get something… something that will makes heads turn."

She took the money with a grin before leaning in and kissing my cheek, leaving behind a red smudge, "Ah, puddin', you take such good care of me!"

"Of course, what would I do without you…"

Bo Bo and I watched on as she donned a pair of high heels and a leather jacket before heading to the door, keys in hand. After she began to step out, Harley paused and turned back to me, "Oh... In case I don't get back in time… don't forget to let the Doc out to go to the bathroom, I don't want him messing in the closet like last time."

"Oh course, my sweet."

I let a minute pass before turning to Bo Bo, "I'll have Harley go to Kintley Ave in Sommerset starting Monday… I'll tell her you're going to pretend to mug her in order to lure the Bat-Femme Fatale out… If no one shows let her go, give her a few blocks then do it again. Rinse, wash, repeat… If she does show," I handed him a syringe, "Give her all of that and she should only be able to hit you twice before she konks out. Take her to the address I gave you and I'll meet you there."

Bo Bo nodded before asking quietly, "Anything else?"

"Make sure it's believable... These Bat-folk have a sixth sense when someone's really in trouble…Don't be afraid to rough Harl up… just not the face."

^V^


	5. Now And Then: V

Title: Now And Then: V

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language, adult situations and violence

Summary: A week passes and the Family finds normalcy… if not for a day.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: "Short" chapter (23 pages) this time around to make up for the last couple 30+ page chapters.

^V^

I kept telling myself that it was all a horrible a nightmare.

I kept repeating the last thing he said to me in my mind, that everything was going to be fine.

I kept staring at the dried blood that stained my hands…

"Selina?"

The voice resembled Dick's but it was far too weak and lifeless to have actually belonged to him. When I looked up, my eyes found him slowly making his way down the corridor. He was marked with blood as well, even more so than myself.

After carefully untangling myself from Nathan, who had been fitfully sleeping beside me for the last two hours, I rose to my feet and tentatively approached Dick. Remaining in her seat, Mattie's eyes followed me; the first sign of life from her since we had arrived at the hospital earlier that night. She had bore the same look of fear since I had urgently pulled her from the guest bed at the Clocktower. Not minutes earlier, Barbara had woken me, telling me that Dick had called with news I had dreaded for the entire time I had been with Bruce. She chose to stay behind in order to stay with Ethan as well as to get in touch with the others.

As Nathan had slept on the ride over, Mattie had sat up front with me doing her best to keep her lips from trembling. Since I knew little about what had happened, I had little to offer her. As we neared Gotham General, she finally asked, "Is he going to be okay?"

I didn't have an answer for her so I lied, "He's going to be fine."

When we arrived at the ER, I had found Dick standing in the atrium, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. After setting Mattie and Nathan up in the surprisingly vacant waiting area, I approached him but found myself speechless when he looked up at me. He had offered a slight nod before glancing over his shoulder towards a pair of double doors labeled Trauma 3. Holding my breath, I had stepped forward, peering through the glass windows to see a mass of green scrub clad people huddled over a gurney.

One individual had spotted me and removed her gloves, and soiled gown before walking over and opening the door, "Mrs. Wayne?"

There was a rush of medical terms thrown at me, highlighted with the words "excessive hemorrhaging", "severe abdominal trauma" and "fluctuating blood pressure". I should have paid better attention but it had been impossible when I spotted Bruce's face amongst the tubes and bloodied gauze and sterile sheets.

The doctor must have recognized the look on my face as she set a bare hand on my arm, "It's okay… I'm sure he'd like to see a familiar face."

That he had. The second I had moved next to the gurney, his bloodshot eyes found me and he had somehow managed to smile before whispering my name.

I had returned the smile as I took his limp hand in mine, careful not to disturb the pulse recorder on his finger and the IV catheter in the top of his hand. Overhearing someone announce that the OR would be ready for him in five minutes, I had leaned in closer, kissing his cheek before reaching up with my other hand to cup his face.

"Bruce… I---."

He had winced just before the monitors began blipping louder. Even as the figures around us had begun to move about faster, I found myself unable to look away from him. Bruce's eyes had closed for a moment before opening once more, although only partially. It had seemed to take all of his will to whisper that everything was going to be fine.

After they had pushed him and the various machines he was attached to out of the room and towards the elevator, I had followed in staggered steps, watching as the doors closed behind them. It wasn't until I had glanced down at my wedding ring that I realized his blood was on my hands…

As Dick walked towards us, the look on his face told me the news long before he attempted to say the words.

Bruce said everything was going to be fine…

Dick paused before me, his lower lip trembling, "Selina… they…" as tears slipped over his cheek, "They tried to stop the bleeding but… the it was worse than they thought and…"

"No…" I whispered.

"There wasn't anything they could do," he added, his voice a weak croak.

"No, don't…" I stammered, "He can't be…"

He closed the space between us, gently setting his hands on my arms, "Selina… I---."

"No!" I cried out, lashing out at him, my fingers like claws, "No!"

"Selina," he replied, this time his voice urgent rather than reassuring.

I struck out at him once more, refusing to believe his words, unwilling to admit to what they meant. Turning away to run from him and his tears and bloodied shirt, I felt his hands on my arms once more. Their grip was stronger than before and found myself unable to break free. I clenched my eyes shut, blocking out the brightly lit hall, the confused looks on my children's faces and the fact that my husband, my best friend, my one and only was---.

"Selina… Selina…"

"No!!"

"Selina!"

My eyes snapped open to see Bruce's face hovering over me, his eyes electric with worry.

Although I wanted to take a moment to catch my breath and to regain my bearings, instead I found myself wrapping my arms around Bruce's neck and burying my face into his chest. His hands slipped behind my bare back, pulling my close before gently rubbing between my shoulder blades. After he pressed his lips to my sweaty brow, he whispered into my ear, "It's okay, everything's going to be fine…"

I couldn't exactly pinpoint the reason why the tears came pouring down but I knew it was somewhere between the realism of the dream and the chaos of the last three months.

As I let the fear and anger roll down my cheeks, I listened to Bruce's whispers more so for the soothing tone of his voice than the actual words. I couldn't help but think that for the last thirteen years, it had been I that woke to Bruce crying out from his own worst nightmares.

That morning, I woke to mine.

When my eyes were finally dry, Bruce carefully slipped out of the bed and I watched as he crossed the bedroom floor in order to step into the bathroom. He returned to the bed and settled under the down comforter after offering me a small glass of cold water. After draining it, I set it on the bed side table before turning back to face him, reaching out to touch his face with my fingers just as I had in the dream. Bruce kissed my fingers before I traced them down the side of his face and neck in order to rest it on the middle of his chest

He finally spoke, "Want to talk about it?"

Although I had no desire to tell him of how I kept dreaming about his untimely demise, I knew I had to say something. I thought quietly to myself before asking, "Would you ever go back, to the cowl?"

Bruce shook his head before explaining, "I stepped down because I was physically unable to uphold my oath. Returning after all these years would not only endanger myself but everyone."

"… What if you had no choice?"

"There's always a choice," he kissed my forehead once more, "Dare I ask what has prompted this line of questioning?"

I paused, taking a moment to shift beside him, bringing up my other hand to rest on his neck in order to feel his pulse, steady and strong, "I don't know… I just… it's like you say… if the Joker wants you, he'll get you."

"He'll have to get through Tim first."

"That's what I'm afraid of," I whispered.

"What?"

"Nothing… Just promise me you'll grow old and gray with me."

He chuckled softly, "I'm already old and gray."

"… Until I'm old and gray. Promise?"

"I'll do you one better," Bruce retrieved a hand from my back and offered his right pinkie. When I reached up and hooked mine with his, he nodded, "Pinkie promise."

"Pretty serious commitment… you can't break a pinkie promise," I offered a tired smile as I looked into his eyes.

Despite the fact that we were partaking in the most childish of practices, his face was stoic as he replied, "I know."

^V^

Where Bruce had been fairly adamant from the beginning that he wanted to shield his children from the other half of his life, I had done the complete opposite.

As I battled with the endless information to sift through, for Tim, Bruce as well as for the League, I found myself working during the afternoon hours leading up until Ethan's dinner. Since he had decided that nap time was only going to last from noon until two, he had joined me as my little toddling assistant. As he toured about the small room in his walker, I did my best to entertain him with toys, snacks and episodes of his favorite shows playing on one of the monitors.

Days he was fussy, I actually let him sit on my lap as I read and scanned through documents and images. I even tried to make it interesting by reading aloud, my voice animated despite the dreariness of police reports. Dick had arrived home early one evening and had snickered to see I had adorned him with a headset so that he could hear the audio of the police calls from the previous night.

He had even joked, "Does this mean I can start taking him rooftop hopping?"

Superficially, I had admitted that including Ethan in that part of my life was simply out of convenience. Still, I couldn't help but think back to countless nights I had spent with Dad helping him organize paperwork, sift through officer applications and writing out speeches for him in place of my own homework.

If he could have seen me now…

In reality it had been just over a year but there were days I felt as if Dad had been gone forever. Then, even worse, there were days that it felt like it was only yesterday that I had lost him. Those days I found myself keeping Ethan in my lap far longer than he desired to be there.

Those nights, I found myself crying in Dick's arms.

Life moves on…

Rather than celebrating Dick and Ethan's close birthdays separately, we had decided on doing a joint party. Just as we were beginning the early stages of Ethan's first birthday and Dick's thirty-fifth, the one and only Trey Richardson had called inquiring if we would be willing to make the trip up to Bludhaven for his son CJ's first birthday.

Dick had grinned before declaring it to be March Madness minus the basketballs.

We still had planned to have dinner for the Family the week of Dick's birthday but been prompted by Trey and Shannon to invite them to the party in Bludhaven. Naturally, Cass had been game, even without being told about the three different birthday cakes. Tim had surprisingly agreed to come "no matter what" as had Selina and the kids but Bruce was undecided. When I had dropped by Wayne Enterprises, I had asked him in person to come to the party.

After putting Ethan on Bruce's lap as means of bribery.

As they say, Bruce couldn't say no to that face…

Being the birthday boys, I had let Dick and Ethan stay home to hang out while I went up with Tim and Cass to help get things ready. Tim and Cass had volunteered themselves to the decorating committee and quickly took charge of blowing up balloons. I had opted to work with Shannon in arranging food platters in the kitchen and attached dining room.

"So, were the g-rents coming up?" Trey asked as he carefully spooned dollops of spiced goat cheese into hollowed out halves of peppers.

I nodded, "That they are."

"Damn… should I run out and get caviar?" the look on his face was far too serious.

I couldn't help but laugh, "Unnecessary."

"Well… I don't know what they eat."

"Food," his wife smacked him in the forehead, "They eat food."

"Fancy food," he grumbled as he resumed his work.

"Actually Bruce hates the stuff. He'd be much happier with pigs in a blanket."

Trey looked up abruptly and declared, "We totally have Pillsbury crescent rolls in the freezer!"

Shannon shook her head, "Is Dick still this bad?"

I nodded, "Worse."

Aside from the Family, various members of the police force and Trey's SWAT team had showed with their families, making the fairly spacious townhouse crowded, loud and filled with laughter. With Dick lost to his former colleagues, I ended up spending a majority of the afternoon with Selina and my son. Mattie and Nathan had both found children their own ages to play with and Tim and Cass had been touring about the buffet while whispering into each other's ears every so often.

Kids.

"So, this is fun," Selina's voice caught my attention.

I glanced over at her with a smirk, "Very… Actually it's kind of like a ghost of Christmas future deal, to see what things would have been like if Dick had stayed on the force."

We both looked over at the sound of a tobacco-scarred voice laughing loudly on the other side of the room. Dick was in near hysterics alongside a few of the detectives he once worked homicide with as Trey turned the color of a Shirley Temple. No doubt my husband was practicing his mastered art of embarrassing his former partner.

"Do I want to know?" Selina inquired.

"I don't think I even want to…"

"Oh, speaking of not wanting to…" she moved forward in the small arm chair she was sitting and leaned closer. With the activity of the house in full gear I first thought she had done so in order to make sure I heard her.

But when she spoke, I realized it was to make sure that no one else did.

"You still haven't told him?" I exclaimed as I shifted Ethan in my lap. Dick had promised to get his reclining chair out of the car an hour earlier and had yet to return.

Selina shook her head slightly, "Well he knows she's going to the dance, he just doesn't know that she's going with someone."

Last weekend Selina had proudly informed me that her daughter had asked Terry to the Spring Fling that was being held at the Bristol Middle School. Although she had been to a number of dances, this would be the first that included all members of the school, ages twelve to fifteen. And this was also going to be the first time she went with a boy.

Apparently, she had been quick to tell Bruce that their daughter was going to attend the semi-formal dance but had been certain to leave out the details that would most likely send him into the stratosphere. Despite intentions to fill in the blanks over the course of the week, Selina had apparently failed to do so.

"When are you going to tell him?"

"I was figuring… never."

"Never?" my brow rose with skepticism.

She sighed, "I think it's for his own good. And Mattie's."

"And Terry's."

"Most importantly," she laughed.

Shortly after Tim had taken the cowl from Bruce, a social worker had been mugged and stabbed to death in one of the shadier corners of Gotham City. It had been the first time since stepping down that Bruce had actively returned to help in an investigation. It was also the first big crime that Tim had been unable to solve as Batman.

Andrea Chase-Miller.

Terry's mother.

Despite being close friends before his mother's death, Mattie had become that much more important in his life, climbing the ranks to best friend despite their difference in gender. For nearly six years they had spent most weekends together, whether it be playing video games at his house or learning self defense at Wayne Manor. He had practically become a staple in the life of the Wayne family, one that was welcomed with open arms.

Thinking of hi shaggy dark hair and quirky smile, I spoke, "Well, you could always tell him they're just going as friends."

Selina nodded, "True… But I think when his daughter comes home with smudged lipstick we'll have to call in the JLA to restrain him."

I was surprised by this, "They're.. kissing?"

"Mattie said they have a couple times, like at parties when they play those silly games… But unlike Bruce I know that we raised an intelligent, young woman who knows how to take care of herself."

"Literally," I laughed. Before I could ask what Mattie was planning on wearing, Dick finally approached, Ethan's chair in tow. After he leaned over and kissed me, he planted another kiss on his son's cheek. "Get lost?" I joked.

"I wish," he replied as he set the chair up on the floor between Selina and I. He took the birthday boy and gently set him in the chair before continuing, "I've been trying to get back here for the last forty-five minutes but every time I sneak out of a conversation some one else wants a moment with Bludhaven's former finest."

"Poor thing…" I chided before asking him if there was any cake left.

He sighed, "No, I went back for another piece before I went out to the car but… Cass, man, she's a beast."

"That's okay, it's not like you needed it anyway, middle aged men have the hardest time maintaining physical fitness," I joked again.

He looked down at me and glared before starting his reply, "Well, middle aged women---," the looks that Selina and I threw at him forced him to pause before finishing, "Are the most beautiful creatures on the third rock from the sun… and can have all the cake they want."

^V^

I had planned on grooming Coltrane Saturday morning, pulling his mane, clipping his face and legs and giving him a few of the carrot cake muffins I had made for him and the other horses at the barn. Mom had told me the night before that she would take me and that afterwards we would get lattes and bagels at the coffee shop. Nothing fancy but a nice morning out with Mom.

After staying up until three reading and practicing katas in my bedroom, I had managed to wake up just after eight Saturday morning. I had quickly changed into jeans, a polo and my new Devoucoux Saddlery fleece pullover before heading into the hallway. Taffy, who had been curled up on my pillows, meekly looked up at me before resting her chin back down on her orange and white paws.

After finding my brother comatose in his bedroom, I backtracked to my parents room and carefully opened the one of the double doors. Under the rumpled covers, I spotted the back of my dad's head and the tips of Mom's fingers resting on his neck. I listened intently to their breathing and after a few minutes I was convinced that they were actually sleeping. Knowing that he rarely found peaceful sleep, I decided to leave them be in order to wake on their own.

On the way to the stairs, I had stopped quickly in my bedroom to grab my paddock boots, pausing to look at the plastic wrapped garment hanging from the back of the closet door.

Although I had never been one for dresses, I had been excited to select one for the Spring Fling. Mom and I had gone into the city during the week to one of her favorite secret designer clothing outlet stores, Cathi's. Even though money was no problem, she had continued to shop there even after marrying Dad. She had even admitted that she had been going there since before she had even met him.

After looking through several displays, we had found the perfect dress, an icy blue Vera Wang ruffle trimmed dress that ended just at my knees, retailing at over five hundred dollars which we paid a third of. The sleeveless bodice was form fitting and the skirt had just enough room to fluff out as I twirled. The back dipped down to nearly my waist but the front only went down just below my collarbone.

As I stepped out of the dressing room wearing it for the first time, Mom had smiled, "Let's see Dad try and find something wrong with this one."

I had peeked under the plastic, gently touching the soft silk before leaving my bedroom once more. This time, Taffy had made the effort of hopping off of my bed in order to follow me downstairs. Since Mom and I had planned on eating breakfast out, I settled for a pair of ripe plums and a glass of water. Taffy had begged at my feet as I had quickly ate the fruit, mewing softly while twitching her tail. After I had finished, I tossed the pits, washed my hands and poured her a fresh cup of food in a fish shaped porcelain bowl.

Since a good thirty minutes had lapsed, I trekked back upstairs, taking two steps at a time. Even though I hadn't had an asthma attack in years, I had always found my lungs tighten while going upstairs, no matter how physically fit I was. By the time I had reached my parents' bedroom for the second time that morning, they hadn't so much as moved under the covers.

Accepting that my morning plans had changed, I had roused my brother and asked what he wanted for breakfast.

"Eggy in a basket," he had mumbled while rolling out of bed, his short black hair standing upright after a good night's sleep.

By the time Mom and Dad had made their way downstairs for the morning, Nathan and I had both eaten and cleaned up the kitchen and had watched more than half of my little brother's favorite CGI movie: Meet The Robinsons. Although I had done my best to hide my disappointment that my morning plans had been ruined, Mom had been quick to see through my fake smile and bright greeting.

She had apologized and promised to spend all day Sunday with me, first at the barn and then up at the Preserve.

"I suppose," I had rolled my eyes in mocked annoyance and she had thrown one of the couch pillows at me before asking if there was any breakfast left.

It hadn't been long after they had come down that we had to get ready to head to Bludhaven. I hadn't visited since I was young, when Dick had been awarded his medal after bringing a pair of bank robbers that had killed several cops in their criminal careers. At the time I had known very little as to what had happened but once I had been old enough, I had read up on the event as much as possible. Although I had been proud of what Dick had done to help protect his city, at the came time I had been somewhat frightened by what he had done…

As one article had put it, he had "utilized the most under used and yet most effective line of defense in police enforcement: lethal force."

I had been excited to see his old partner and his and Barbara's godson, CJ, as well as to meet the officers and detectives that he used to work alongside of. No doubt they had great stories about my big brother saving damsels in distress on the streets of Bludhaven. That and it had also been the first of two birthday parties within a week of one another so that meant lots of food, cake and balloons that needed popping.

Get psyched.

Although it was an hour drive, it had seemed to fly by. I had spent most of it texting back and forth with my friends about that night's Spring Fling dance. I had admitted to them that I was in fact going with Terry but had explained that it was just for fun, not a date. Terry had even seconded my explanation, adding that with the reduced couple entry fee compared to the singles entry fee, he would be bale to buy more food at the concession table.

I had been to the sixth grade semi-formal winter dance, but the Spring Fling was my first all-school dance. It was being held in the large gymnasium at the middle school and the party planning committee in charge of it had set aside all of Saturday to decorate. Had I not already been going to Bludhaven for the day, I would have no doubt been hard at work alongside my peers.

Piper, who was in charge of decorating the large pictures windows with temporary murals, had sent me a few pictures on my phone and I had smiled to see the large, brightly colored flowers she had created.

The party at Trey's house had been fun to a point. I had spent most of the time hanging out with a few of the girls that were my age, talking about school and boys for the most part. Even though I had intended on talking to some of the police officers, they had been fairly occupied with talking loudly to one another and refilling their red plastic cups.

After the three cakes had been served, of which I had managed to snag a piece of each, I had found Mom sitting with Barbara, Dick and Ethan. Even though there had been four hours left until the dance started at eight, I wanted to make sure I had plenty of time to get ready. We found Dad and Nathan in the back yard wrapping up the football game. In the fall, Nathan was due to start the junior peewee football league in Bristol and he used every moment he could to practice his new found skills.

The ride home had taken much longer, mostly because there was no one to text with as they were either still decorating or actually getting themselves decorated. We had hit traffic coming around Gotham and it had taken an extra thirty minutes before we made it up the drive to Wayne Manor. With Terry due to pick me up, with his sister driving, at quarter of eight, I had more than enough time to shower and then have my mom help me style my hair and apply makeup.

Spare time to talk with Dad.

I waited until I had showered before finding him in the study, reading in his leather arm chair. Approaching him from behind, I did my best to silence my footsteps on the carpeting. Just as I was about to tap his shoulder to surprise him, Dad spoke softly, "Yes?"

"Ah…" I sighed before stepping up beside him, "What are you reading?"

"Alfred's journal," he replied before looking up at me with a smile, "Are you wearing this to the dance?"

I twirled around suddenly in my bath robe, quickly enough to dislodge the towel that was wrapped up on my head. After fixing it, I sat on the arm of the chair and looked over his shoulder, "So what's going on?"

"Alfred's teaching me Shakespeare."

"How old are you?"

"Seven."

I thought of how I hadn't read Romeo and Juliet until I had entered sixth grade before inquiring, "So what are you going to do without me all night, Dad?"

"I just don't know…" he closed the book before looking up at me again, "Perhaps I'll think about why you tried to keep your little secret from me."

A sudden tightness formed in my throat as I realized he had somehow found out about my leaving at night, about my plans. He didn't seem outwardly upset but I knew that had no influence on his being angry on the inside. As I slowly realized that I was going to be grounded for the rest of my life, starting that night, I did my best not to react, "Whatever are you speaking of, father?"

Dad smiled again, rising from the chair. After he set the leather bound journal on his desk, he turned to me, shaking his head, "You could have told me."

Still wary of how well he seemed to be handling it, I responded cautiously, "I… could have, yes, but I didn't think you would understand."

As he leaned against the desk and crossed his arms over his broad chest, Dad looked down at himself, "I suppose it's only natural… especially at this age."

I nodded as I approached him tentatively, "So… what now?"

Dad looked to his watch, "Well… I guess you should get ready, Terry will be here soon."

"Terry? What… I mean…" I stammered, losing my composure.

His brow furrowed as well, "That was your secret… wasn't it?"

Fighting panic, I threw on a bright smile and winked at him, "Busted…" After taking a breath, I continued, "Are you mad at me? For not telling you… about Terry, that is?"

Dad stepped forward and kissed my forehead before answering, "Not at all, kitten. But you know… you don't have to keep secrets from me."

"And neither do you," I responded.

He hesitated before saying, "You've been spending far too much time with your mother."

^V^

"Don't you have something better to do than read over my shoulder?"

I looked down at Barbara and shrugged, "Not really… Tim and Dick are sparring."

"And you can't join them?"

I shrugged again, "I already did. Beat them both. Twice."

"Then go walk Frank."

"He's sleeping."

Barbara looked over her shoulder at me, glaring at me from over her reading glasses, "Well either wake him or join him."

I contented myself with a quick sigh before leaving the almighty Oracle's lair in defeat.

After spending most of the day in Bludhaven, Tim and I had returned to the townhouse around four-thirty to feed Robbie and let him romp in the yard for a while. As he had enthusiastically chased after his oversized rubber ball, I had watched on from the terrace, laughing as he tumbled and romped. Tim had joined me after he had run upstairs to grab his gym bag. We were due at the Clocktower for a much needed workout after eating all day. In addition, Tim had wanted to review what he was going to offer to Kelsey and Bryce later that night.

Our _progress_.

By officially crossing the Joker cards off of our list of clues, we were back to trying to find meaning in the jokes and the murders they were associated with. Although Tim had been working fairly closely with Bryce, he had only visited with Kelsey on nights that there had been a new crime scene. In general, we had kept matters between the vigilantes and the law enforcement on a need to know basis. However, with the Joker, there was no need to hide anything.

Not that there was that much to hide.

Bypassing a snoring Frank that was sprawled on the couch, I made my way to the training room, surprised to only see Dick stretching as he sat on the floor. As I walked through the doorway, he looked up, "Hey, come back for seconds?"

"You wish… where's Tim?"

"Shower, I think," he rose to his feet, "Hey, did Ethan wake up yet?"

I shrugged, "Barbara's on the computers and he's not in there, so I guess not."

He walked towards the door and into the hall, "Let's see if I can sneak in some play time with him before we head out tonight…"

Fighting a smirk, I thought the same to myself.

After making my way to the bathroom that was attached to the back of the training room. Tim and I had taken to keeping spare clothes there for after impromptu ass beatings in the Clocktower. Much like our bathroom at home, Tim had claimed a sink to himself, adorning it with a toothbrush, a stick of deodorant and a jar of organic liniment. There were two more sinks available but I hadn't made any of them my own.

One night on patrols a few weeks ago, Nightwing had looked at me and asked, "Are you wearing… his Right Guard?"

The bathroom was just starting to steam over as I entered, smiling at the sound of Tim muttering to himself. I bit my lip and made my way across the blue tiled floor, carefully removing my clothes with each step. Ready to strike, I quickly opened the glass shower door and jumped into the hot water and an unsuspecting Tim.

I expected him to turn around and look at me in surprise before letting a smile creep over his lips. Then it would only have been natural for him to reach out and either touch my side or to smash bubbles in my face. Splashing would have turned to teasing which would have turned to kissing which would have led to who knows what.

But he didn't look at me in surprise.

There was no smile.

"What are you doing?" he asked, not a single sign of amusement on his face.

I offered a smirk before answering, "Conserving hot water."

Tim stared at me blankly for a moment, letting the water pour onto his head from above, flattening his hair. After a moment, he turned away from me in the spacious shower, "I'll be out in a minute."

Not wanting to allow his grump-fest linger, I reached my hands out and settled them on his waist, "Sure you don't want to stay?"

"Cass…"

"Not the birthday boy until July but---."

"No."

"What?"

He looked over his shoulder at me before repeating himself. I let my hands drop and stared at him for nearly a full minute before I turned and stepped out of the shower. Goosebumps flushed over me and I knew it was . After donning a robe, I left the room far more hastily than I had entered. Tim should have called out my name or at least an apology. I would have settled for just the sound of the shower turning off and the door being opened.

But there was nothing.

Nothing until I was already suited up, my cape flapping against my back as I violently secured my utility belt around my waist. And even then it had been a soft, "Cass…" rather than the more appropriate _Cassandra Cain, I beg for your forgiveness and your mercy even though I am obviously undeserving of it_.

I ignored him as I pulled my gloves taut, clenching my fists until I heard the crinkle of leather.

"I'm… I was trying to run things over in my head, I wasn't expecting… that."

"My apologies," I gruffed as I checked through my belt's compartments one more time.

"Come on, you have to try and understand where I'm coming from… "

"Of course," I snapped as I began to pull the cowl over my head.

Tim stepped forward suddenly, putting his hand on my wrist, stopping me before I could hide behind the mask. When I turned to face him, I was surprised to see him only wearing a towel around his waist and a frown on his face.

"Cass, you can hit me if you want," he released me as my eyes narrowed.

I should have hit him. Hard.

Instead, I took the higher ground.

And kicked him. Hard.

As Tim doubled over, his arms reflexively surrounding him midsection, I walked by him while finally pulling my cowl into place. I spoke loud enough so that he could hear me over his mixture of coughing and laughing, "JoJo's at midnight."

Without another word, I quickly made my way through the training room and into the corridor, my cape billowing behind me.

With the sun still making its way behind the city skyline, I quickly made my way through the Clocktower to the computer room. Dick, who had changed into the tunic, leggings and boots of his Nightwing suit, was standing beside Barbara's chair with a giggling little boy in his arms. Even thought my blood was still pumping from my encounter with Tim, I found myself stopping dead in my tracks.

Dick glanced at me before turning slightly, "Say hi to Cassie, Ethan."

The toddler giggled loudly before slapping his hands on his father's face.

"I… What is he…?" I stammered.

Dick smiled, as Barbara explained, "It's fine. We decided he's going to find out anyway, might as well make it a normal part of his life so it's not a big deal later on…"

When I didn't respond, Dick added, "Bruce waited too long, now he's got a gung-ho kung-fu machine rather than a teenaged daughter." He hefted the boy up and held him high above his head, smiling brightly the boy giggled in delight at being so high. "When Ethan's that age," he paused in order to pretend to let go of his son, securing his hold on him just as Ethan reached Dick's chest, "I want him chasing as many girls as he does criminals."

I allowed myself a disclosed smirk under the mask at the sight of father and son.

Then Barbara ruined it by saying, "Tim suiting up?"

My smirk negated itself back into a scowl and I resumed my trek to the windows. As I unlocked them and prepared to take my leave, Barbara added, "Problems in paradise?"

"Problem solved," I retorted before jumping into the cold night air.

I spent the next five and half hours touring the city on my own, finding criminals of all varieties to reform. Pickpockets in the theatre district, dealers in the Bowery, carjackers in Chelsea, muggers in Manchester and a particularly violent dispute between a pimp and one of his employees in Chinatown. All in a night's work in Gotham.

Although I kept my radio on, I spoke only with Barbara a handful of times and that was mainly to report the location of my latest victims.

I arrived at the all night coffee shop at five before midnight, taking a seat on the north east corner with my legs dangling over the edge. Although there were thirty-nine locations in Gotham, Tim and I had met there almost every night since we had first patrolled alongside one another all those years ago. It had been the only original Cuppa Jojo's that had survived the Quake and when No Man's Land was being reversed, it was the first coffee shop to open its doors.

It was our place.

A dark figure appeared on the rooftop behind me and rather than rise to face him, I remained seated, swinging my legs back and forth.

The figure reached a hand forward and paused to the left of my face, offering a steaming Styrofoam cup. It wasn't hard to place the heavenly aroma as being a Toffee Nut Latte. Although it was my favorite, I forced myself to remain stoic.

The figure reached another hand forward and paused the right of my face, offering a slice of Toffee Coffee Cake wrapped in wax paper.

I leaned my head back and smiled up at him, actually surprised to see him smiling as well.

"Truce?" he asked, his voice a hair lighter than the usual gravel he spoke with.

I didn't answer until after every drop and every crumble was gone. In fact, I didn't answer until after we had patrolled the remainder of the city, side by side. Even after we had arrived at the Sat-Cave to change and write up logs, I still wouldn't answer him. Once Robbie had been let out and the house had been locked up, I still avoided his eyes, silently repeating his question.

It was when he cried my name, barely decipherable as he alternated kissing my neck and moaning ohGodohyesohoh, that I agreed to his truce.

^V^

When Selina and had first told me a week earlier that she and Mattie were going dress shopping for the Spring Fling dance, my instinctual reply had been, "I thought she didn't want to go to that dance?"

She had been quick to reply with, "Care to rephrase that, Bruce?"

"Fine," I had paused before rearranging my response, "I thought I didn't want her to go to that dance?"

The explanation had been that all of her friends were planning on attending so through the boundless influence of peer pressure, my daughter had decided to follow suit. In order to prepare for the semi-formal event, my wife had accompanied my daughter as she spent the week dress shopping, getting her hair cut, mani-pedis as well as receiving a spray-on tan. When I had asked her why that had been necessary for the dance, she had rolled her eyes before explaining that all of her friends had gone somewhere tropic for spring break and she didn't want to look like a ghost.

Selina had later noted that it was far healthier than the alternative tanning beds.

"Fine," I had finally conceded, "But it had better wash off."

I was unable to admit to either female of my family that my daughter's budding social life had been a welcome, albeit, temporary distraction from the real burdens of my life.

Months of nothing and suddenly a sporadic killing spree ladden with jokes scribbled on paper. Where the initial deaths had followed a somewhat logical path as the Joker began preparing to take the city by storm, the latest had come as a complete surprise. A second chair musician for the Gotham Pops had been found bludgeoned to death with his own instrument at a open mic night. Unfortunately for the musician, he hadn't performed to one audience member's expectations.

_Old trombonists never die, they just slide away_.

"There's a million of these old jokes out there," Dick had commented during a meeting we had at the Cave the night the trombonist died. "He'll have half of Gotham in the morgue by the time he runs out of them."

To which Tim had growled a reply of, "He won't get that far. At least not while I'm still standing."

Meeting adjourned.

"Dad?"

I was in the den pretending to leisurely read the paper from the day before when Nathan stepped into the room. After putting it down on the end tale, I turned slightly to face him as he walked towards me, "What's up, tiger?"

He shrugged before hopping up on the couch beside me, "Nothing."

"Nothing?" I echoed, "Want to read with me?"

He shook his head and stared out across the room.

"We could watch a movie, just you and me," I offered.

He shrugged slightly, still staring off.

"Well… we have all night, so you can do whatever you want."

Nathan looked up at me and for the first time I realized he had been struggling to hold back a smile. His eyes flashed to the doorway and I glanced back to see Selina leaning against the frame, nodding at him.

My son took a deep breath and when my attention was directed back at him he spoke slowly and with obvious effort, "Krris Krringle carrefully crrunched on his candy canes."

As my jaw dropped, Nathan looked up at me, the look of concentration on his face fading into a bright smile. Selina passed through the doorway and leaned over the back of the couch to kiss Nathan's blushing cheek, "Perfect, tiger."

"Thanks, Mom. Can I have ice cweam---," he paused and then tried again, "Ice crream, now?"

She nodded before answering, "Go pick something out of the freezer, I'll be over in a minute."

As he leapt off of the couch and bounded into the hallway, Selina took his spot on the couch beside me, her smile unwavering as my jaw remained practically unhinged. When I found my voice, I finally asked, "When did he…"

"Apparently he had a major break through this week with his speech therapist."

Since he had uttered his first word, Nathan had fought against a case of rhotacism that prevented him from pronouncing his r's. Although it had been endearing to many members of the Family, I had naturally developed a deep concern for his future despite his pediatrician's claims that he would outgrow it.

Although we had followed the recommended guidelines of not pointing out his mispronunciations and always speaking normally around him, he had continued his imperfect speech pattern. Once he had been enrolled in school, I had finally convinced Selina to allow him to see a speech therapist for weekly appointments.

Major breakthrough, indeed.

"Bruce?"

I focused on Selina's face once more and responded, "I'm sorry, it's just… I think I need to hear it."

She rolled her eyes, "Dream on."

"Well, I was technically right…"

"He would have outgrown it eventually…"

I countered with, "It's better to confront a problem sooner rather than later."

She growled lowly and I took it as a sign to drop it.

For the time being.

"Anyway, I came down here to remind you to be on your best behavior tonight. Mattie is nervous as it is, she doesn't need you---."

"Why is she nervous?" I inquired.

She reached forward and pressed her Frence tips into my abdomen, "Bowels in or out, Bruce?"

I smiled briefly and allowed her to continued uninterrupted.

"As I was saying, she doesn't need you to go all bats hit, pardon the expression, over the fact that this is technically her first date."

I hesitated before stating, not asking, "I thought they were just friends."

Selina swore under hear breath, "They are…"

"… Cat's out of the bag."

The claws came out again, this time digging deep into the flesh of my sides without remorse. I did my best to defend myself, maneuvering myself above her in order to pin her backside down on the couch, using my larger frame to keep her down. As she retaliated by bringing a knee up to slam into my lower midsection, I snatched hold of her wrists and pinned them to her sides.

"Confess," I growled.

"Never," she spat back.

Then another voice, "Can't you two behave like normal parents?"

We both looked up in mid-struggle to see a young woman standing at the arched entrance with a look of mixed disgust and disappointment on her face.

Once upon a time, the young woman had been a young girl, looking up at me in disbelief when I had told her that her "most favoritest pony" now belonged to her. She had also cried in my arms as I knelt before our Family in a hospital corridor. I even recalled that she had once been a tiny infant, staring up at me for the first time.

"Kitten… you look…" I stammered, my eyes still trying to convince my altered mind that the figure before me was Mattie Elizabeth Wayne.

She twirled around twice, the light material of her knee length skirt spreading outward, "Amazing, I know."

Selina suddenly kneed me in the groin gently before making her rather elegant escape. "I think I like the hair up like this better."

My daughter's shoulder lengthy hair had been straightened from scalp to just below her chin in order to be pulled back into a decorative bun save for a cheek bone length strand that had been left loose to partially cover her left eye. The curls that had been left au natural bobbed between her shoulders. Her eye shadow was the exact hue of her dress, highlighted with a shade lighter from the top of her eyelid to just under her perfectly arched eyebrows.

She was beautiful.

Selina excused herself momentarily to fetch her camera as well as to dish out ice cream for Nathan. As we sat alone in the den, I had a truly difficult time keeping my smile in check. Mattie tried not to notice but finally asked, "What?"

I shook my head, "I don't know… So used to breeches and sweat pants."

"Yeah, this girly stuff is hard… Already have a run in my pantyhose."

The doorbell sounded shortly after Nathan and Selina returned. Mattie was quick to pull back the loose strand of hair before skipping to the atrium. Selina and I followed less enthusiastically and by the time we caught up with her, she had already let Terry in.

He had cleaned up well, sporting what appeared to be a new black suit over a silk dress shirt that was nearly the same color as Mattie's dress. His tie, secured in a perfect cross knot, was an intricate jagged pattern of purple, white, lavender and green. Terry had also gotten a hair cut, trimming his dark brown hair short enough to stand upright and askew with enough gel.

Mattie smiled at him before saying, "Mom wants to get pictures of us, to prove we actually can look pretty."

"I'm pretty, you're stunning," he smirked.

As she posed the kids in front of the door, they took several arranged pictures of them standing side by side, back to back and then a few fun ones where they made ugly faces and gave each other bunny ears.

I told myself that the Joker lurking in Gotham was the reason why my blood wasn't boiling over the fact my daughter was going to a dance with a boy.

As Selina had said earlier in the week, "He's a good kid, Bruce. You know him better than you think."

Unfortunately, I did.

As Mattie ran back to the den to grab her coat and purse, Selina said she was going to head to the study to upload the photos to the computer. Alone with Terry, I smiled softly and complimented his tie.

"Thanks, my sister picked it out for me… Actually she picked out my outfit. Dad was going to but he didn't want me to go to my first big dance in tweed with elbow patches."

"How is your dad?"

"Good," Terry replied, "Working quite a bit but he likes to keep busy. If it's not the university he's elbow deep in the garden getting it ready for when the weather breaks. I guess it's nice to have a place to get away from reality for a while."

"Very true." I hesitated, not wanting to say what I was about to but knowing that my role as the protective father required it, I started, "Terry?"

"Yes?" he looked up at me.

For a second, it wasn't my daughter's "not boyfriend" in front of me.

It was Tim. It was Jason. It was Dick. It was me.

"… Have fun tonight."

Terry nodded and replied, "Thanks… Hopefully I won't step on her feet while we're dancing. She's got a mean right hook."

^V^


	6. Now And Then: VI

Title: Now And Then: VI

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language, adult situations and violence

Summary: And now the real game begins.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: A million apologies for the delay in posting this. It's been a struggle to write productively with long days at work and intermittent internet…

^V^

April Fool's Day… I should have seen it coming.

When the Signal had seared the sky a little after midnight on the first of April, I had been pummeling a thirty-something year-old man within an inch of his life. No, not a man.

A monster.

Although there was no denying that hunting down the Joker had earned precedence in our nightly patrols, there were still others that were just as deserving. In the three months that had passed since the Arkham escape, I had knowingly allowed the regulars slip through the cracks for the others to catch. Even with the combined forces of Nightwing, Batgirl and even Huntress, it hadn't been enough.

And the innocent had paid the price, as they often did.

Muggers, rapists, arsons, burglars, carjackers, bank robbers, murderers…

Alone, no match to the Joker but combined, night after night…

Nightwing still branched off in order to not only combat those that lurked the streets of Gotham but Bludhaven as well. Batgirl and Huntress had pushed their fast-paced and uber violent methods to the limit, bringing down as many as painfully as possible. After more than two weeks free from any corpses decorated with hand written jokes, I had taken to mingling with a few deserving souls as well.

On the first of April, I had finally managed to hunt down a thirty-six year-old man named Arthur Dale. In the last two months, he had abducted eleven teenaged prostitutes before beating, raping and then dumping them in dark alleyways wearing only their own blood and bruises. The first six victims had not come to the police to report the attacks but after the others had stepped forward, they had found a change of heart. DNA evidence taken had surprisingly matched with a sex offender already in the system.

He had introduced himself with a smirk and, "Call me Artie."

With no permanent address and no concrete social network amongst fellow lowlifes, it had been hit and miss trying to zero in on him. Cassandra had gone as far as offering to don her old undercover wardrobe but I felt it wasn't the best use of our limited manpower.

Womanpower.

After asking around as politely as I could, I finally had found a plausible lead. Seems that Mr. Dale had taken to squatting in his grandmother's apartment while she vacationed in Ft. Lauderdale for the spring. Unfortunately, she would be returning to find her antique furniture in splinters and her hand made doilies stained with her grandson's blood.

The flash of the Signal outside the living room windows had distracted me for a fraction of a second and Dale had taken it as an opportunity to smash a half broken vase over my head. As glass had shattered and fell to the ground, I had turned back to face him, my grip tightening on his shirt collar. With no time to waste, I had slammed the Kevlar enforced brow of the cowl into his forehead and let him fall to the ground.

Exiting through the back window, I had raced down the fire escape to the Mobile as I contacted Oracle, "Dale is ready."

"Units already on its way, figured you'd cut your chat with him---."

"I didn't hear anything on the scanners," I had cut her off.

She had hesitated before replying, "That's because nothing came over the scanners… Looks like this is a personal call."

I had hoped that it wasn't just Kelsey waiting for me on the rooftop of GCPD. Although she had been significantly more cooperative since the Joker's escape, she was still Kelsey and she was still a pain in the ass. Bryce had been on our side from day one, a factor that had made it easier to meet with him more regularly without the need of a spotlight.

Or a new corpse.

Speeding into Tri-Corner, my eyes had fallen to the blood that was drying on my gloved knuckles. After no sign of the Joker for nearly two weeks, I had found myself letting my frustrations off on those that found themselves in my path. More often than not it had been criminals but others had suffered as well. I had missed Mattie's first horse show, of which she had cleaned house aboard her mighty steed. I had skipped Nathan's class performance of George of the Jungle where he had proudly played the part of a monkey. Dad and Dana's calls went unreturned and Alfred's letters went unanswered.

And Cass…

Before I had asked her to marry me, I hadn't so much as raised my voice at her, mostly in fear of my life. And yet since our lives had turned upside down at the beginning of the year I had not only snapped at her but outright yelled at her. The first had been the shower incident at the Clocktower. Then not three days later, she had asked if I ever planned on going back to work at the firm. I had growled at her that I had more important things to worry about than if the cameras were working at the penthouses on Central Ave.

Then the grand finale had been just before we had headed out for patrols that night.

I had been going over the latest on Arthur Dale in the Sat-Cave while Cass warmed up in the training area. Just as I rose from the computer, she had approached, asking if she could let Barbara in on the wedding seeing how I didn't have time to help her work on it. It had in no way been intended as an insult but that hadn't prevented me as perceiving it that way. In not so many words, I had yelled that if she didn't want to marry me that it was fine by me. Before I could settle myself back down. she had promptly reminded me why I had been so afraid of yelling at her for so many years.

The filling in one of molars had flown out of my mouth when she had punched my jaw.

Landing on the GCPD rooftop, I was pleased to see that both Kelsey and Bryce were present, standing a yard apart with their eyes glued skyward. I used their distraction to my advantage and strode silently towards their backs, clearing my throat to announce my presence when I was less than a foot away.

Kelsey spun around, a plastic evidence bag in her right hand, before muttering, "Damnit…"

Bryce turned to face me as well, "Good response time, Bats."

Ignoring him, I looked to the purple envelope within the bag, which prompted Kelsey to explain, "This came through the mailroom this evening. Most of the mail addressed to you is sent to forensics for prints and DNA," she paused as she offered the bag to me, "Any matches get sent to Special Crimes and the rest gets tossed in a box to be sorted through in our _free time_."

Jim Gordon had called it the Bat Box. Harvey Bullock used to read the love letters aloud to his fellow detectives as a means of entertainment. When I had first started out, I wondered if anyone wrote letters to Robin…

After taking the evidence bag from her, I flipped it over to read the front of the envelope through the plastic. Outwardly, I remained passive but my heart rate shot up at the sight of the Joker's handwriting: "Batman" c/o GeeCeePeeDee.

We had speculated to that point that it was possible the Joker had rationalized a different face was behind the mask, most likely from Harley's first hand experiences. Realizing our speculations were now fact had caused hair on the back of neck to stand to attention. Had it been any other case, I would have opened the envelope in private to read the Joker's private message but it would have been a direct insult to Kelsey and Bryce.

And as difficult as it was as times, we needed them on our side.

"Forensics had matches on prints and DNA for the Joker, plus the penmanship… Even ran an x-ray to be safe, nothing in there but a piece of paper," Bryce informed me.

Kelsey added, "They didn't open it once they realized it was legit… sent it right up to me. I had them pull the security tapes to the mail room, see if we can get an ID on whoever put it in the mail drop box."

I opened the bag and retrieved the envelope, still without uttering a word. They watched on in silence as I undid the flap and withdrew a single square of green paper, again with the Joker's handwriting. After reading the words three times over, I returned it to the envelop and the evidence bag.

"Well?" Kelsey asked.

I finally made eye contact, ignoring the pain in my jaw as I spoke, "Old tourists never die, they just never go home."

There was a brief moment of silence before Kelsey's face hardened, "Sonofabitch."

Bryce remained solemn, "Why would he send us the joke when he's been leaving it at the scene of the crime?"

I responded, "Because he may not be able to leave it this time."

"What, he's going to blow up the city tourist center?" Kelsey snapped.

"Unlikely…" I countered even though it would have been a good laugh to take out a few hundred visitors stupid enough to come to Gotham with him on the loose, "But not improbable." My eyes fell to the envelope once more.

Hand delivered as there was no stamp or delivery print on it.

But there was something in the top right corner…

Using my right hand, which had been concealed by my cape, I switched the lenses of the cowl to ultra violet and wasn't surprised to see that in UV reactive marker he had also written, "Best before April 2nd".

Kelsey had been right. Sonofabitch.

"We have less than twenty-four hours," I growled suddenly.

"Until what?" Bryce asked.

"To find out what he's going to do. Either before or after he does it."

Kelsey shook her head before saying, "I'll push for a curfew, and at least get the morning news shows issuing warnings. I'd rather have people fleeing the city and the tourism industry being short changed rather than the morgues putting up no vacancy signs."

As I turned to leave, he asked, "Why are there quotes around your name?"

Bruce would have glared at Bryce until he visibly cowered. Or wet himself.

Dick would have done the opposite, smirking while making a joke about Joker's poor grammar.

I simply responded, "I think we have more important things to worry about," before leaping off of the roof.

As I made my way back to the Mobile, I opened the link to Oracle and informed her of the latest on the Joker. Even though I froze in my tracks at the sight of stoic figure beside the vehicle, my voice was steady as I spoke, "Get a hold of Bruce, he'll want to know."

"You got it," Oracle replied curtly, the clatter of keys cut short as I disconnected.

Somewhere a car alarm was sounding. A dog was yipping. A baby was crying.

But not there.

There was only a quiet voice, a voice that I couldn't believe had belonged to me, "I'm sorry."

"Tired of apologies."

"I'm tired of apologizing."

The figure stepped forward, neon lighting from above washing over her face to reveal a smirk covered in black Nomex, "Bad dog."

"What?"

"Like a bad dog," Batgirl continued, "Do things you shouldn't do even though you know it's wrong, get punished."

"I've never seen you hit Robbie they way you hit me," I growled, although I hoped she detected to the slight inflection of sarcasm. For my sake.

"He's a good boy," she was quick to reply.

Her tone and soft body language allowed me to feel fairly certain she wasn't going to attempt to knock my head off again. I closed the distance to the Mobile in long, swift strides after activating the remote control to open the door. When I moved to get in, Batgirl followed suit, bounding over the hood before landing in the passenger, "Kelsey bother you?"

After I was seated as well, I handed her the evidence bag, "Not as much as this does."

Only the Mobile's ignition firing was heard as she read through the plastic.

And then, "This bad dog. I will hit."

^V^

"More than a hundred thousand tourists visit Gotham every day…" I heard Dick sigh just before the main monitor starting broadcasting his face alongside Barbara's.

Fighting back a smile, I sat back in my father's chair and replied, "Awesome, I needed a random fact to share at Citizenship class Monday."

They both stared at me from the screen, Barbara being the first to recover, "Hey… little late to be playing Snood on the Bat-Computer, isn't it?"

I finally allowed myself to smirk, "I wasn't playing Snood… I was playing Goldeneye."

She paused before asking, "Is your Dad there?"

Shaking my head, I answered, "No, he's upstairs with Nathan, he's sick."

"Ah," Barbara replied before glancing back at Dick. She then looked over her right shoulder to an off-screen figure, "He's in the Manor with a sick little boy."

The figure growled, sending a chill down my back, "Fine. We can catch up with him later."

"I can go get him if you need him," I was quick to offer.

Barbara nodded, "If it's okay, if Nathan needs him, this can wait."

"I bet he's sleeping by now, let me go check," I leapt out of the chair fast enough to leave it spinning, dashing to the elevator in the interest of saving time.

As I waited for the gilded car to rise from the Cave to the third floor, I stood on my hands, practicing keeping my body straight. I had a regional qualifying gymnast meet the next day, of which I would be performing routines on the balance beam, uneven bars, vault and floor exercise. This was pretty much the biggest gymnastic event I had been to and everyone was coming to watch, even Uncle Clark and Aunt Lois.

And of course Terry.

Since the Spring Fling, Terry and I had made it fairly public that we were dating. It wasn't the dating that Piper and Kat and Angie engaged in, which sustained nothing more than a brief two week relationship followed by a dramatic break up in either study hall or Biology. In fact nothing had changed from when we had been just friends aside from holding hands in the halls at school and sneaking kisses when alone in the entertainment den.

Surprisingly enough, my father had managed to control himself in regards to his little kitten growing up. I figured he was busy trying to help find the Joker and that my sitting next to Terry on the couch was the least of his worries. Dad had even reasoned that he was finally becoming a mature, rational adult. Mom was wary and often reminded me to keep my guard up and prepare for the worst.

Alfred, however, said my father would be well into his eighties before he became rational.

To which I had joked, "Just in time to become senile."

He had chuckled softly, "Quite so, Miss Mattie."

Ever the Family's voice of reason, Alfred was planning a "surprise" visit to Gotham in June. Only myself and Leslie knew of this and if things went according to plan, it would remain that way. So far, one of my favorite ways for him to announce his presence would be to have Dad walk down to the Cave and see Alfred dusting the computer console.

Either that or to have him wake Mom and Dad up one morning, bright and early.

We still had time to work out the details.

Although I still had my time thinly spread between my family, my friends, Terry, Coltrane, gymnastics and working on my katas, I was still managing to stay up at night and sneak out of the Manor nearly five nights a week. I wasn't sure what I took more pride in, the fact that I was thriving on such a demanding schedule or that I was able to hide a fraction of it from my parents. Again, my mother had her suspicions, my father was distracted and Alfred was the voice of reason.

Although slightly advantageous, I had used my brother being ill to sneak into the Cave that night to borrow a few final items necessary to prepare for the next step. Over the last few months I had slowly developed a cache of weaponry and supplies. Aside from that, I finally put to use my recently mastered sewing skills from Home Ec to wrangle myself the most important piece of equipment: a suit.

I was almost ready.

Almost.

When the elevator doors opened to the dimly lit corridor, I pushed off of my hands into round off before tumbling into a somersault. When I completed two revolutions, I leapt to my feet, took two running strides prior to performing three consecutive back flips before one handless flip. Landing in a presentation stance with my hands above my head and a smile on my face, I nodded in acknowledgement to my imaginary standing ovation before silently passing into my parents bedroom.

Despite the late hour, my mother was still wearing the dark slacks and green blouse she had been in all day. She sat on this side of the bed, looking down at my father as he reclined on the bed, Nathan laying between them. He had come home from school early with a stomach ache and mild fever and had only gotten worse as the day progressed. After Mom had picked me up after gymnastics practice, they had taken him to the Bristol Medical Center. I had opted to stay home alone to take a nap and get dinner ready for when they got home.

Dinner had been served a little after seven-thirty, but it had only been myself and Mom.

Bedridden with the flu, Nathan had been prescribed medication to alleviate symptoms and help him rest. Offering to clean up and see myself to bed, my parents chose to stay with him for the rest of the evening. Left to my own devices on a Friday evening, I spent thirty minutes on the phone with Terry while eating ice cream in the den before taking in a true indulgence: sneaking into the Cave.

From ten until nearly midnight, I had practiced each of my routines in the training bay, even though I had done the same earlier that day at practice. It wasn't that I wanted to qualify for the regional competition in Boston, I simply wanted to show everyone what I was capable of.

That I wasn't a kid anymore.

After showering and changing into sweats, I carefully climbed up into the lone chair of the computer bay before accessing a set of logs I had been working through since the beginning of the year. Having read most of the written documents, I had finally made it to the audio and video logs that my father had recorded years ago. It had taken a bit of computer trickery but finally I had broken through the passwords barriers.

As the computer brought up the files, I reached beneath the counter into the small fridge Dick had put in, smiling to see an unopened orange soda and Three Musketeers bar hidden behind the bottles of water and Gatorade. Making a mental note to replace them, I took them for my own, thinking it was officially a night at the movies.

Watching my father speak on the recordings was a very odd experience. On one hand, it was him, the man I had grown up with and loved. But on the other, it wasn't him. His voice, his mannerisms, even his eyes were different. This was the man the rest of the Family had grown up with.

One I would never meet.

I had watched on as my digitized father, still bearing pressure marks on his face from wearing the cowl all night, reviewed his night's efforts against his war on crime. At the time of the recording, Dick had already taken up the guise of Nightwing, Jason was haunting ghost over my father's conscience and Tim was still just the geeky kid next door.

As he recounted an encounter with someone he referred to as Abattoir, I noticed his right arm was bleeding. Alfred, who appeared shortly after, noticed as well and promptly began cleaning and stitching the wound. Dad didn't so much as flinch let alone lose his train of thought. I couldn't help but think that I was useless for an afternoon after Coltrane accidentally stepped on my foot last weekend.

Something I needed to improve on.

"Dad?" I spoke quietly.

Although he didn't seem to hear me, Mom looked up, "Hey, thought you went to bed…"

"I was going to but…" I suddenly realized that by informing my father that he was wanted in the Cave meant that I would reveal I had been down in the Cave without permission. Thinking back to Alfred once saying that the personal sacrifice was more important than personal gain, I sighed in defeat, "I went down to practice my routines one more time and Barbara came on the computer and wanted to know where Dad was…"

That time he did look up.

And happy was probably the worst way to describe the look on his face.

He leaned in and kissed Nathan's flushed cheek before rising from the bed. I turned out of their room and began heading to my bedroom, fairly certain that was where he intended to send me. Hence why I had been surprised when he said, "Follow me," as he walked by me.

By the time I caught up with him, he was already opening the grandfather clock in his study. I put on my most apologetic face and looked up at him just as he began to speak. He stopped, shook his head and proceeded, "Mattie… If you wanted to practice for tomorrow you could have asked. There was no need to sneak down here without telling us."

"I didn't want to bother you… and Nathan."

"Not an excuse." Something happened to his eyes and I realized he was forcing himself to appear angry, which meant he was anything but. He turned towards the entrance and just as he went to close it behind him, I stepped forward.

"Can I come down with you?"

"No."

"Please?"

The darkness in the entranceway out most of his face in shadow, but the dim lighting from the den reflected in his eyes. That's when I saw it. He wasn't angry.

He was worried.

After being shut down once more, I huffed and pouted as the door closed in front of me. I had a quick vision of unlocking the entrance in five minutes, sneaking down into the Cave in order to eavesdrop on their discussions. It might have been worth it to see just what was going on, what required my father's input but I felt it was an unnecessary risk. One that would no doubt jeopardize my weekend plans, from the gymnastic meet all the way to going to with a few of my friends into the City to see the musical Hairspray.

Reluctantly, I made my way back upstairs, passing my room in order to return to the master bedroom. Mom had finally changed into a sleeveless blue nightgown beneath Dad's robe. She still sat beside Nathan, rubbing his back and holding an ice pack to his fevered brow. As she offered a slight smile of acknowledgement, I asked quietly, "Is he feeling any better?"

"A little… Fever's down to a hundred so hopefully he'll be able to get some sleep."

"Did he drink his electrolytes?"

Mom nodded, "A little…" she paused to brush back a strand of damp black hair from his brow. She then said, "Well, unless you plan on sleeping on the balance beam tomorrow, you best get to bed, young lady."

I could have told her that I was used to going to bed much later. Instead, I nodded, forced a yawn and waited a beat before asking, "Think I should take some coffee down to Dad?"

"He won't be down there that long, kiddo." Even if I hadn't already know she was lying, the look on her face would have given it away.

^V^

Although I had ridden back to the Clocktower with Batman, I chose to head back to the streets rather than stay and figure out the latest joke. There was something unappealing about being cooped up in a room with all that frustration. All that tension.

Much better to think about things with plenty of room to move around.

I had managed to stay until Bruce had come on over the OraCom from the Cave. From there, it had been a heated twenty minutes of debating and tooling with ideas as to what the joke meant. Barbara had brought up the idea that he may go as far as to attack multiple tourist locations, possibly one an hour.

Bruce had frowned at that before replying, "Or maybe all he'll need is just one. One major target. What's scheduled for tomorrow?

"No major events, just the routine attractions that happen every day," Nightwing had replied, "Not even anything at the museums."

"There has to be something," Bruce had snapped, "Or else he wouldn't have picked it."

Barbara was quick to offer a defense, "We've checked, Bruce. City Council, the Tourism Board, all the major hot spots, there's not so much as even a free ice cream cone being handed out tomorrow."

"Kelsey said she's going to push for all of the news broadcasts to issue a warning and a curfew," Batman spoke, the growl in his voice nearly matching Bruce's.

"It's not enough," Bruce retorted.

"Until we catch him, nothing will be enough," Barbara admitted.

I stayed a bit longer before slipping out the back, seemingly unnoticed. Alone, I resumed patrols, coming across a number of unsavory characters in need of a lesson in good behavior.

A little after two-thirty, I had just secured two would be carjackers in a over ripened dumpster behind a take out place on Roxbury. As I aimed a line to the rooftop, I spotted a swatch of cape floating just over the edge. After firing the grapple, I repelled up and landed beside my observer.

"You left," came Batman's growl. "Why?"

"You're the brains, I'm the beauty," I joked.

"You know that's not true…"

In a fraction of a heart beat, I was at his side, my fists clenched and eyes narrowed, "You calling me ugly?"

"That's not what I said… You're valuable beyond what you can do with these," he motioned to my hands.

"Just trying to suck up from earlier," I smirked while relaxing my form, letting my arms slowly fall back to hide under my cape.

"I'm not kidding," he spoke again, his gravel and tone further declaring that he was in fact not kidding, "We would have never solved the judgment murders if it hadn't been for you."

I rolled my eyes, "Now you're sucking up for eating the last Klondike bar in the freezer."

A softness washed over his jaw and for a moment, it was only my fiancé that stood before me, "How did you know?"

"I wanted one for breakfast… but there were none left. Had to have Raisin Bran instead."

Finally, a smirk formed on his lips.

If only for a moment.

Then it was back to business.

I asked if they had come to any conclusions during their chat in the Clocktower. He listed off a number of late night tourist attractions that we needed to check out, mainly in the theatre district. He then added, "When dawn breaks we'll regroup… assign daytime locations for undercover work."

"Even for Bruce?"

"He didn't say."

I couldn't help but wonder as to how he was actually coping with the Joker's escape and subsequent murders. To have finally captured him and imprisoned him for seemingly all time only to have him on the loose, evading us every step of the way. The clown had always been difficult to zero in on but this had seemed different. He was telling us something with his jokes and his victims, something we had yet to translate into sanity.

"Nightwing is already checking out the Night Light bus tours… I need you to go to Little Paris and make sure the only clowns there are mimes."

I nodded before asking where he was going.

Again his form faltered, just for a moment.

He didn't know.

Without another word, I took off, heading for the Charles Paris amusement park. Although the season for the outdoor attractions had yet to start, the indoor facilities and late night events attracted Gothamites and visitors alike. After contacting Oracle, I found out that the feature event that night was a fashion show.

Awesome.

Given the fact that the park was all the way Evanstown, I lost a good thirty minutes simply making the trek south. I toured the grounds fairly quickly, spotting nothing more than a darkened van rocking in Parking Lot A. Most of the attendees of the fashion show were outside the main entrance, smoking and chatting as they shivered in designer clothes.

With practically no effort, I snuck into the main building which housed an indoor roller coaster, Ferris wheel and numerous other carnival rides and games. Most of the attractions had been shut down for the night but I was sure to visit each one, which had been easy considering there had been maybe less then two dozen people inside the hundred thousand square foot building. With no sign of bombs or clowns, I made my way back outside.

I moved on to the arcade where a group of high school boys were taunting a similarly aged girl trying to walk towards Harrington Drive. I followed from up high, waiting until the words turned to actions before leaping down. Within ninety seconds, all four boys were horizontal on the cold pavement, bleeding and moaning.

One of them cried for his mother.

"Are you all right?" I asked the girl softly.

She nodded, her lips trembling. I offered to escort her to the next street but she declined, the strength in her voice belying her external anxiety. As I turned to leave, after deciding I would follow her from the building rooftops that lined the boulevard, I spotted her tentatively approaching her would be attackers.

A smile crept on my face as she kicked each of them in the stomach, calling them each a colorful name.

After she was safely off in a cab, I reported in my activities as well as the considerable lack of foul play towards tourists by anyone sporting green hair. Barbara updated me as well, saying that neither Batman nor Nightwing had come across any foul play out of the ordinary. The clock on my lens visual put it a little after three-thirty, which meant we had less than twenty hours to sift through the thousands of tourist attractions in order to keep the Joker from carrying out his sick plan.

Thousands divided by twenty.

Not good odds.

I toured back north, my stops becoming less frequent as the night grew later. I was just about to contact Oracle to see if there were any other places I could check out when I caught a whiff of rich perfume. Considering I was eleven stories up and that Nightwing doused himself with something he called "Antidote" it left only one other person.

"Hey there, long time no see," Huntress greeted me as I turned to face her.

I nodded.

"What, back to being a mute?" she smirked. She, along with Nightwing, wore domino masks which barely covered anything on their faces. Unlike Batman and myself, their expressions were broadcasted to the world. At the moment, she seemed content, if not happy.

"No, I just… preoccupied."

"I take it a pale giggling homicidal maniac is involved."

Another silent nod, mostly because I was uncertain how much I was supposed to tell her. Although she had been working with us for some time, I still couldn't shake the need to keep Family secrets away from her.

"He contacted me… which was funny because usually it's O… I've been looking through the west side… not so much as a green hair. The police are scouring the airports, all the flights coming into Gotham have been directed to Bludhaven… Like having the Joker loose wasn't enough of a deterrent for people to avoid this city, now he's targeting them directly."

A tone registered on the Oracom and I wasn't surprised to hear Oracle asking us all to head back to the Clocktower for another meeting of minds. Huntress stared at me, her intrigued eyes suggesting she was not receiving the same message. I glanced towards Tri-Corner before looking back to Huntress.

"Something happen?"

"No, just… I have to go"

She smiled and replied, "I see."

I hesitated before saying, "You can come, if you want."

"Thanks but no, thanks. If he wanted to see me, he would have sent for me. See you around, girl."

As she turned to leave, I suddenly felt very guilty, even though I knew I had no reason to. When I began to follow her steps, she stopped and faced me again, "Really, its okay. It takes a lot more to hurt my feelings then being snubbed for a Bat gathering."

A shrill cry for help sounded from down below and Huntress grinned at me before leaping off of the roof, "Tell him I'm keeping the peace!"

^V^

"She should be in the Olympics."

"We had to coerce Bruce into letting her compete on the high school team, we would have to lock him in a fallout shelter to get her to the Olympics," I laughed as Clark Kent watched in awe as Mattie completed the final piece of her floor exercise: a full twisting back tuck that landed her exactly in the corner with her feet together.

Too bad no one was there to see it.

With the Joker's cryptic message still looming over them, Dick, Tim and Cassandra had taken to loosing themselves in undercover work for the day, visiting as many tourist destinations as possible before night fall. Then they would trade their khaki pants and maps of Gotham for Kevlar and knock out gas pellets. Although I knew Bruce would have been more than happy to join their efforts, he unfortunately had been left no choice but stay home with his ill son.

Even though her immediate Family members had been unable to attend, Lois and Clark had showed up at the Manor at eight that morning, ready to cheer their favorite teenager on. The gloominess that had consumed my daughter when she had learned that no one else was going to make it had been traded in for radiant smiles and squeals of delight that her "aunt and uncle" had actually made it.

Clark had commented, "I was a boy scout, Mattie. And when a scout makes a promise, he keeps it."

Lois had elbowed her husband's indestructible ribs before adding, "Interesting because you promised to bring me home cheesecake last night and you didn't."

"I said I was sorry…" he looked to us, "I left it in the cab I took home from a banquet." His explanation had been an obvious lie, no doubt to cover up for whatever global disaster he had stopped.

Before we had left for the meet, I had run back upstairs to say good bye to Bruce and Nathan. Since the germs were already on our bed from him sleeping there the day before, we had decided to quarantine him there until the virus worked it's way out of his system. Given Bruce's resilient immune system and affection for his son, he had opted to stay with him in order to keep myself and Mattie shielded from the bug.

As I crept into the room, I had been surprised to see Nathan sitting up in bed, propped up by three over stuffed pillows. Bruce had been sitting beside him, helping Nathan read through some of the school work he had missed by coming home early from school. I had promptly walked over, taking the papers from my son's hands before leaving the room without a word.

I had returned minutes later with my widescreen laptop and an armful of DVD's and computer games, setting my bounty on the bed before leaning in and kissing Nathan's brow, "Don't let Daddy make you work, you make Daddy work."

Despite being sick, he looked up at me, sporting his trade mark grin minus two of his bottom incisors. He then looked to his father and asked, "Can I have some ginger ale?"

"Of course," Bruce had reached for a small glass that sat fizzing on the bedside table."

"No, I want new ginger ale, with ice. And a straw."

When Bruce had glared at me, I had simply grinned and blew him a kiss before quickly making my exit.

Despite the chaos, the day seemed to fly by. Mattie and a number of girls that were on her team performed flawlessly and were often in the top three for their divisions and disciplines. Lois kept busy, either yelling into her cell phone or using it to take videos of Mattie's performances. As requested by her father, I recorded his daughter using a digital camera that I knew doubled for long distance surveillance by a certain someone wearing cape.

Jackass.

As Mattie stepped off of the floor to await her scores, Clark continued, "So, how is everything?"

I shrugged, "As good as it can be, I suppose. We're all still talking to one another, we're all still breathing… But I can see things getting ugly if he isn't caught soon."

Clark nodded before looking to the judge's table, a smile washed over his lips before he responded, "I wish there was something I could do to help… But Bruce would never ask."

"In all fairness, it isn't Bruce's call anymore," I spoke, instantly regretting not keeping it to myself. As much as I hated to admit that my old life was over, I knew Bruce hated it even more. He still clung to it as much as possible, whether it be still fairly grueling exercises or spending countless hours in the Cave, linked directly to those still roaming the streets.

"You're right. I guess I could talk to Tim, see if he's open to it."

I was about to reply that at this point the would make a deal with the devil if it meant for the clown to be behind bars once more but the announcer came over the speakers, "Floor Exercise scoring for Mattie Wayne for Team Bristol. 9.7, 9.8, 9.5, 9.7."

Several parents in support of the Bristol Varsity team began cheering, but not nearly as loud as myself, Lois and Clark. Although she had a penalty earlier in the day for a fudge on her balance beam routine, she was still neck and neck with a girl from Rhinebeck for overall high point winner. Her near perfect score for her floor routine pushed her well into the lead, considering her opponent had garnered penalties for going out of bounds twice.

Mattie looked up at us and waved before a number of her team mates tackled her in a group hug. Terry, doing his best to hide roses behind his back, stood the side, waiting for Mattie to free herself. Once the girls stepped back, he moved in and kissed her cheek before handing her the flowers. Never one to hide her feelings towards anyone, Mattie wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, right on the lips. Clark stopped breathing and I heard Lois say, "Maybe it's a good thing Bruce didn't come… I'd hate to see what that boy would look like after he had his way with him."

"Actually, Bruce had been agreeable with the whole 'first boyfriend' thing."

"What, is he finally on Prozac?" she joked.

"No, I just did a lobotomy with a pair of chopsticks while he slept. Much more pleasant to deal with."

Lois looked at her husband briefly before looking back down to Mattie and Terry, "How could he be mad about them, look how cute they are."

I looked down as if I needed to remind myself about the level of cute my daughter had her best friend and boyfriend were.

Incalculable cuteness.

After the remaining girls performed their routines, the final scores were tabulated and sure enough Mattie was awarded the high point award which entitled her to a gold medal as well as position on the regional team. They would be competing at several national competitions, including one in Washington DC that summer. As Clark, Lois and I made our way down from the bleachers to the main floor, I called Bruce's cell to tell him the good news.

He answered with a gruff, "What?"

I ignored his tone and relayed, "Cheer up, Charlie, our daughter just kicked some serious gymnast ass."

"How serious?" he grumbled, slightly less bitter sounding.

"Shiny gold serious," I paused before asking, "How's our other offspring fairing?"

"He may have to settle for the bronze…" He informed me that Nathan had been able to get a bit of sleep but was still battling an upset stomach on top of a even one hundred degree fever. When I asked how the others were doing on their self-assigned sight seeing.

Bruce's voice softened as he spoke to his son, "Nathan, try to finish up, tiger, then we can do your bath." When he directed his words back at me, the growl had returned, "Nothing… they've visited almost two hundred places since seven this morning, going back to look again even… but nothing. The Transit and Port Authority has all arrivals diverted and bomb squads have scoured every inch of the tunnels and bridges---."

I interrupted, "Awfully helpful."

He snapped softly, "Apparently they don't want anymore dead bodies."

Ouch.

After telling him we would be home in about thirty minutes and that I loved him, I hung up and caught up with Lois and Clark. Mattie had spotted us and grabbed Terry's hand before racing towards us, her medal clinking against the gems of her leotard. She let him go to hug her fans, and I smiled at him and said, "The girls still trying to get you to join?"

Terry laughed, "Yeah… I'm better than the only boy they have on the team but still… those tights are tight."

Lois elbowed her husband and he fixed his glasses as she smirked at him.

Mattie suddenly asked, "So, did you call Dad and tell him yet?"

"Just got off the phone with him, he was getting Nathan's bath ready so they'll be ready to watch the video when we get home."

"Sweet," she looked to Terry, "Want to come over?"

"Uh, sure, let me call my dad quick."

As he walked away, already dialing on his cell phone, I cleared my throat. Mattie glanced up and said, "Oops… Um, can Terry come over?"

I shook my head at her and as her face filed with disbelief, I smirked, "Of course he can, kiddo. Besides, I'll need his superior geeky video skills to hook the camera up to the TV."

She then looked to her surrogate aunt and uncle, "Are you staying too?"

"Sure," Clark replied, "I'd love to see the instant reply."

Mattie paused before continuing, batting her eyelashes at me, "How are we going to feed all of these people on such short notice…"

With a sigh, I handed her my cell phone, "Fine, we'll stop by the trattoria… And order something aside from artichoke pizza." As she gave me the universal teenager eye roll that indicated _I know, Mom, _Clark said he had never heard of artichoke pizza.

I had settled on only thinking it to myself but Lois chose to say it out loud, "You can take the man out of Smallville…"

^V^

For appearances sake, Clark Kent and his wife Lois left Gotham City a little after seven-thirty that evening.

For appearances sake, I feigned sleep beside my son until I was certain his snores meant peaceful rest.

For appearances sake, I simply walked by the entertainment den rather than interrupt my daughter and her boyfriend as they watched a movie, sitting a little too close to one another.

With midnight less than four hours away, we had grown no closer to finding what tourist attraction the Joker had set his ghastly focus on. There had been a couple of close calls but each had turned out to be crimes planned by those that were significantly less insane. Not wanting to waste time, Tim had forwards the information to the police so that they would be able to pursue the suspects on their own.

It had made the same difference in their productivity as I had.

None.

I had spent the entire day alternating caring for my son and communicating with Barbara and the others over the phone and the Oracom. Whenever Nathan had been watching a movie or playing on the laptop, I had snuck down to the study in order to catch up with Barbara. Unfortunately, each trip down seemed more and more wasteful as everyone was growing angry and frustrated with themselves and each other. No doubt nearly as angry and frustrated as I had become with myself.

The note the Joker had sent offered us nothing aside from setting a time line and then a general target. It should have been more than enough to figure out what he panned on doing, especially in time to stop him from acting and hopefully even catching him in the process.

And yet the time was running out and we were no closer to finding him than we had been at midnight the night before when Kelsey had first given the envelope to Tim. Not only that, but it seemed impossible to narrow down so many targets in such a short time when a decade ago it would have answered itself.

Even though I no longer wore the mask, there was no reasoning as to why I wasn't able to still think as I once had. The world's greatest detective shouldn't be any less great if he sits before a clue with a bare face.

Yes, there was…

"Oracle?"

"Yes, boss?"

I hesitated, somewhat shocked at her slip up. She hadn't called me that since…

"What have we got?"

She didn't skip a beat, her words coming in rapid fire as she no doubt updated me while doing her best to navigate and monitor activities of masked figures all over the city. Tim had checked in with the commissioner for the third time since eight, their discussions becoming more heated as the night grew on. Cassandra was revisiting their top ten likely targets, including several comedy clubs celebrating April Fool's Day. Dick was juggling checking out a few of their top targets in addition to the regular patrols that they had been neglecting.

Spread too thin.

When we had regrouped late the night before, Cassandra had said that she had run into Helena who had been somewhat insulted that she had been invited back to the Clocktower personally. Instead of taking up Cassandra's offer to tag along, s he had head back to the streets to work out her unwarranted frustrations. Although she had matured in the last few years since her return to Gotham, she still battled her emotions and was quick to either join our efforts or avoid us altogether.

Not us, them.

At least she was helping in her own way.

"What did Kelsey have?"

"Same as last time, nothing. It ended up being an advisory instead of a mandated curfew so everything is still open… but they estimated that they were able to divert nearly eighty thousand people from entering the city today."

I glanced up to the monitor but lost my train of thought at the sight of another figure on the screen. Or rather, the reflection of another figure.

Without turning or even acknowledging him, I continued to speak to Barbara, "Have them check the Theatre District again… I can't shake the feeling that he'll be after those coming out of the Laugh Stocks."

Her digital eyes were transfixed on my visitor and after offering him a curt nod, she replied, "I'll let Dick know," before signing off. When the screen went blank, Clarks blue and red clad figure stood out loudly in contrast.

"Can I help you, Clark?"

"Funny, I was about to ask the same thing."

I brought up the list we had conjured of the locations of interest and began skimming them, searching for something we had missed. Clark read over my shoulder, a horrible habit of his that dated back to my early days at the Watchtower. After a silent minute, he spoke up, "You know I half expected to come back tonight to find you had already solved this."

"I haven't, but thanks for reminding me," I growled softly.

"Bruce, I didn't mean it like that, I---."

"I know, Cark, you always mean well."

He went quiet again, leaving the clatter of keys and the hungry cries of bats as the only sounds in the Cave.

And then, "Bruce, I mean it… I… I want to help, just tell me what you need and I'll do it."

"Thank you, but we have it under control," I forced a light inflection of politeness into my voice although I wanted nothing more than to have my guest floating in outer space…

No, it couldn't be…

_Best Before April 2__nd__…_

"Oracle!" I snapped as I brought up an astronomical calendar. Nothing was listed for that night aside from a distant flyby of two of Saturn's moons, Janus and Pallene. Simultaneously, I pulled up screens for each of Gotham's four observatories and planetariums, searching their home pages and coming events for anything that might indicate a reason to target it.

The Hayden Planetarium's home page made an announcement on the margin that cause my stomach to churn: _We will be hosting Fool's Night Out on April 1__st__ before closing for renovations and updating our facilities to keep up with the ever expanding universe of astronomy._

"Bruce," Barbara's face finally appeared.

I began forwarding her the information while speaking in the same automatic, quick paced tone she had used a moment earlier, "It's the Hayden Planetarium, it fit's the April Fool's, Best Before Aprils 2nd note and the tour---."

As I looked up at her image, I finally noticed the lack of color in her face and the glassy look in her eyes. She opened up a video link and as a smaller screen opened up just beneath her chin, she spoke, "Emergency units just arrived… no reports on any survivors but Hayden's computer system said they had a sold out ten-thirty show… A hundred and fifty people plus eleven staff members…"

The city's oldest and most notable planetarium was engulfed in flames as a news crew did their best to inform the city what little they knew. I forced air into my lungs as I watched on as a middle aged reporter announced, "We're still unsure as to what has happened here at Hayden Planetarium but witness in the area reported that they heard a massive explosion before seeing the structure literally disappear in flames. According to the planetarium's schedule, they were offering a special event tonight before closing it's doors for renovations. The performance was scheduled to start a little over fifteen minutes before the explosion took place, which leads us to suspect that there is a considerable number of people trapped---."

I hit mute, not wanting to hear the useless dribble and assumptions that poured out of the man. Despite the fact that I had left her volume alone, I faintly heard Barbara say that Dick, Tim and Cassandra were already on route to not only help in the any possible rescue efforts but to canvass the area for any sign of the Joker.

I could barely hear her over the laughter that echoed in my mind.

_Old tourists never die, they just never go home…_

The screen went blank as Barbara signed off, her focus needed elsewhere. The blank monitor still showed Clark's reflection standing behind me, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Seems to me that you do need my help."

Although it had only taken a fraction of a second, time had slowed to crawl as I rose from the chair, using my momentum to garner as much drive down my right arm before hitting him square in his perfect, Kryptonian jaw. As the nerves of my hand reported back to my central nervous system that I had just fractured fourth and fifth metacarpals, Clark was falling to the cold, granite floor.

He got to his feet slowly, a look of shame coming over him, "Perhaps I deserved that…"

"You deserve worse," I growled, clenching my hand in a fist despite the agony it sent up my arm.

"Bruce… I'm sorry," he spoke softly, his tone sincere where mine had been in jest a minute earlier.

Before over a hundred and fifty people died at the hands of the Joker.

He left without another word, hopefully making his way out of the city for good. Leaving the computer bay, I slowly walked towards the medical area cursing myself for not showing restraint. As I retrieved and ice pack and gently placed it over the top of my hand, I took a seat on the clean gurney, staring at the bruising as it formed before my eyes.

Whenever I had punched him, I had worn my reinforced gloves which absorbed most of the blow but even then, it was like punching a brick wall.

_Best Before April 2__nd__…_

I went through two ice packs before Selina's footsteps sounded on the main floor of the Cave. They paused and I knew she was confused at the sight of the empty chair before the computer's blank screen.

I called out her name and when her eyes found me, she sighed before asking, "Do I want to know?"

Although I had been tempted to not tell her of Clark's return trip, I found myself explaining, "Clark decided to come back to offer a hand."

"And you gave him yours instead?" she asked as she lifted the ice pack, wincing at the sight of the inflammation that had spread over the far side of my right hand.

"Something like that," I found myself replying in a whisper.

She found the last ice pack in the small refrigerator and gently placed it over my hand, "I'll wake Mattie up, have her keep and eye on the Pukester so we can get this looked at in Bristol."

When I opened my mouth to say it was fine, she pressed down on the ice pack and I cried out as she grinned, "It's not fine, my love, it's broken." Selina went to turn to leave but I reached out with my left hand, gently grasping hers.

"I'm not fine, Selina…. I'm… broken."

^V^

Thanks to the response time of the fire department and the pigs in blue, Harley and I were unable to put out graham crackers, marshmallows and Hershey bars to use. In fact, we barely had enough time to hop, skip and jump back to the Joker-mobile, as my dim witted lady had dubbed it.

If anything, I had expected the caped crusaders to be the reason my fingers weren't sticky and why Harl wasn't trying to lick chocolate from her white gloves. We had even dressed up for the occasion, decked out in purple and green and red and black respectively. But not a single pointy ear in sight, right up until the big kaboom.

I had given them more than enough time to figure it out… which only made me wonder once more if Batsy was really dead.

Only one way to find out.

But first things, first.

"Harley!"

"In here, puddin'!"

Well beyond hiding in the bungle-ho that had been our home for months, we had finally moved on up in the world, settling into a quaint townhouse in Victoria Place. Harls had picked it out herself from the real estate ads, falling in love with the wrought iron fence and the master bathroom on sight. Although we had more than enough money to buy the place, it had been much easier, and cheaper, to kill the older bloke who lived there.

He had wanted to leave Gotham any way, we just made his trip that much easier.

I followed off key humming to the living room where Harley was busy at work replacing family photographs of chubby grandchildren and lame vacations with pictures of us, both one she had taken as well as the police.

"I'm making the house our home!" she declared after hanging up a blown up image of the two of us. It was actually a print of a painting, she with her back to my front as I grinned while holding her hand. Nice but it made me look old and it did not show her caboose at all.

"Where's the Doc?"

"Oh, I sent him to his room, he tried escaping out the kitchen door… You'd think he'd like it here… much nicer then the old place."

"That it is… well, I'll have to punish him later but he has some work to do. Bring him down to the basement, Harl."

"Will do, puddin'," she blew me a kiss before skipping out of the room.

I stepped closer to the picture she had just hung above the mantle, thinking to myself before reaching into my coat pocket for a permanent marker. I stood on my tiptoes and colored in a few gaps on Harley's smile.

Ha ha ha.

I returned the black marker and retrieved another that was UV reactive. After signing "Joker was here" on the picture, I heard footsteps coming down the stairwell just outside of the living room. As the steps grew closer, I heard hushed pleas for freedom and then Harley's shrill voice, "Zip it, Doc, or I'll zip it for ya. And I'm good at sewing zippers, I did the one in my costume all by myself."

As they passed into the room, I turned to see that the Doc had changed into a pair of jeans and ill fitting polo shirt. Thankfully, the fella that gave us his house was about the same size as him, especially after he lost all the pesky psychiatrist weight. Apparently it was hard to maintain his weight considering he only ate when Harl remembered to feed him.

And to think she wanted me to get her a puppy, poor thing would be starved half to death like Doc.

"Well, well, if it isn't the troublemaker…" I tsked him while wagging a finger.

"Please, forgive me," he stammered, "I just…. My family… they declared me dead months ago and I just… I need to see them… I…"

"I, I, I, me, me, me… Doc, you know being selfish doesn't get you anywhere," I approached him, gently patting his shoulder and smiling as he winced. "You see, I'm not selfish and look how life treats me. I've got a beautiful girl," Harley squealed in delight, "I've got a wonderful job and tons of friends… well, not tons but Croc certainly is a big boy."

Doc's lips quivered before he spoke, "I'm terribly sorry, please…"

"There, there, no worries. I know you won't do it again… mainly because if you do I'll have to kill you and that doesn't sound like it would be good for either one of us… But you do need to be punished…" I reached around his backside and slapped him square in the tuckus with my electric hand buzzer. He jumped a good foot into the air before crying out in surprise.

"Ooo, me next, puddin'!"

I looked at her and shook my head, "Not now, toots. Why don't you get back to decorating… maybe rustle up something to eat. Us men are going to work up a mighty hunger with our work, no doubt."

She leaned in and kissed my cheek, "Sure thing, puddin'. Anything in particular?"

"Surprise me, doll."

"I love surprises!" she called out before taking flight to the kitchen.

As I wrapped an arm around the back of Doc's shoulders to guide him to the basement door, I leaned in and whispered, "You know, she's not the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree but she certainly is the cutest."

I let him go down the steps first, almost hoping he would trip in the darkness. BoBo had accidentally broken the bulb when he had brought his cargo down earlier that day and we had yet to replace it.

One of the reasons I had agreed to Harley's pick had been for the basement. Soundproof, no windows, not even a cellar door. Big, spacious and unfinished with endless opportunities to finish into a rec room or even another bedroom or living area. Given that BoBo had only worked on it for a day, it certainly was shaping up to be a very recreational area.

In where most people would have set up a billiards table or even a sectional sofa around a big screen TV, we had furnished out basement with a dentist's chair, slightly altered with a number of buckles and straps to make sure it's occupant held still for various procedures. Instead of soft overhead lighting, we had mega bright flood lights aimed directly down at the chair for optimum visibility. Lastly, in place of glass topped coffee tables or bookshelves filled with DVDs, we had a number of stainless steel trays filled with a wide number of instruments, all prepped and ready for action.

Lights, camera, action.

"My, God…" Doc exclaimed under his breath as he looked at the figure thrashing in the chair. You'd figure after fighting unbreakable bonds all day she would be pooped instead of still writhing about.

Such determination.

"So glad you could make it," I greeted our guest as she glared up at me from beneath a purple mask. "I know what you're thinking, that I've kidnapped you to perform unspeakable things upon you in hopes to draw old Bats out to try and save you but you've got it all wrong… why I even have a doctor here just to make sure that you're okay," I looked to him, "Tell her, Doc."

"I… I am a doctor, but a psychiatrist at Arkaham…" he stammered.

"Oh, don't belittle yourself doc… and besides, if anything you can at least make sure her mind is okay. Now, where were we… Ah, yes," I smiled down as she gnawed at the gag secured in her mouth, "We were getting to why I had you brought here… I just want to ask one little, teensy, weensy question and if you can answer it, I'll have these bonds undone and you're free to walk on out of here without so much as a scratch on that dominatrix outfit of yours."

Her eyes hardened but I simply kept on smiling, "Now, I'm going to take this off but if you bite anyone we'll have to assume you're rabid and I'd hate to have to go all Old Yeller on you… Capice?"

She nodded slightly and I motioned for Doc to step forward. Without any instruction, he went to work undoing the knot beneath her head , taking nearly five minutes before he was able to remove the gag. Mouth finally freed, she snarled at me, "What do you want, Joker?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes, "I just told you, toots, plain and simple. I just need a question answered and then you're free to go."

"What makes you think I can answer it?"

"Oh, I think you can… Now, before I ask you, I want you to know that you can trust old Uncle J when I say that I promise not to lay a finger on you… after all, we're all getting too old for all that horseplay, am I right?"

Her glare softened ever so slightly before she spoke, "I won't trust you."

I sighed again, "I know I've done some pretty rotten things in my day but in all honesty, so have you. You and your Robin Hood Auto Arrow wrist launcher and what have you. Even still, it's all in the past…"

I took a breath and asked her.

She glared up at me for a moment before smiling.

I asked again.

Her smile grew.

When I asked a third time, she started laughing.

At me.

My blood began to boil but somehow I remained calm, "Very well… I will uphold my promise, however and won't lay a finger on you."

I snapped my fingers.

BoBo, dressed in a tailored white button up shirt and pressed slacks beneath a white apron stepped forward. I introduced him to our guest and then proceeded to introduce her to him, "You see, BoBo here used to work for a spicy ah-meatball named Salvatore Maroni. It was his job to ask questions and to get answers to those questions. Needless to say when Maroni-Baloney went down poor BoBo went down with him. Luckily for me, he was released early for good behavior, isn't that right, BoBo?"

He nodded as he began rolling his starched sleeves to his elbows.

"You think I'm going to talk because you have some washed up enforcer?" she continued to smile.

"Well, he did wash up, just for today. And no doubt he'll need to wash up again after you two have a nice little chat… But he's not an enforcer. He just asks questions. He's a Questioner… Old Eddie Nygma and him would be best buds, no doubt…" I turned to Doc and set a hand on his shoulder, "Don't worry, I've got you set up over here. IV bags, blood bags, needles and even a defribu… a defibu…. One of those heart shocky things. All I need you to do is keep her alive until she answers my question. Got it?"

"I… I can't do this… I can't…" he began shaking his head.

"There you go again, Doc, not believing in yourself… Well, just know I believe in you. Because if you don't do it, you won't have to worry about going home to your family because they'll be swimming the Gotham River just like the former resident of this humble home. Got it?" When he slowly began to nod, I leaned in close, our noses practically touching, "Good."

By the time I made it back to the kitchen, Harley had put her culinary skills to the test. The table was set for two, including Snoopy glasses filled with white wine, with plates filled with instant macaroni and cheese, Bagel Bites and Steak'um sandwiches.

A scream sounded from below and I laughed out loud, "Bone Apetit!"

^V^


	7. Now and Then: VII

Title: Now And Then: VII

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language, adult situations and violence

Summary: The Joker's attacks have their toll on the Family, in more ways than one.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Lots of big things will be happening in the next few chapters, so they should be coming more quickly than the previous ones.

^V^

Bruce had originally been scheduled to chaperone Nathan's class trip to the Preserve's education center but given the fact that it was only three days after the Joker's latest attack on society, we both decided it was probably best he stepped down.

For the children's sake and his own, Barbara went in his place.

There had been a small glimmer of hope when the collaboration of rescue teams and a blue and red blur had recovered eight survivors from the wreckage. Unfortunately, before they could offer any information about what had happened that night, each had expired either en route to the hospital or in surgery. Arson investigators, along with the private investigations of a few masked individuals, discovered traces of ammonium nitrate, fuel oil, potassium chlorate and red phosphorus.

Ka-boom.

"I still can't get over how great this place is," Barbara commented, "We'll have to get Ethan up here this summer when he's a little bigger." When I didn't respond, she reached across the table and touched my hand, "Earth to the Cat-Lady…"

We had just wrapped up the first half of the day which included a nature hike, scavenger hunt and then hybrid SUV ride around each of the paddocks. Since it was still fairly early in the year, there had only been two classes visiting, Nathan's first grade in addition to a ninth grade class. Both had come together in the dining area at noon, barely filling half of it with fifty students and chaperons.

Lunch was free to all, courtesy of the Wayne Foundation, which included free choice deli hot and cold sandwiches, soups salads, an endless salad and fruit bar and of course dessert. I had helped Nathan make his own tray of a roast beef melt, a cup of fruit salad and dish of soft raspberry ice cream. After settling him down at a table with his brothers in arms, Taylor and Jackson, I made a matching tray of lunch for myself before seeking out Barbara. She had opted for a Greek salad, a turkey artichoke Panini and mint chocolate chip.

Given that we had been surrounded by children's smiles and laughter, we had kept the conversation about how the morning had gone and what the afternoon entailed. After running out of nice things to talk about, silence had fallen between us. When she had commented on the Preserve's ed center, I had been thinking back to Saturday night.

More specifically, when I had been sitting beside Bruce in the Cave as our children slept above us in the Manor.

While muted footage of emergency teams fought the blaze in search of survivors and victims alike had played on the main monitors, Bruce had admitted to me, and himself, that he wasn't fine. That he was broken, for a lack of a better term. He had proceeded to confess, no doubt from the compounded exhaustion and pain, that he had looked through the planetariums more than eighteen hours earlier but hadn't seen anything. When it had finally clicked in his mind that the Joker was going to make the April Fool's Night Out his target it had been too late.

Although he had practically stayed on following his retirement, save for the rooftop hopping, Bruce admitted he felt as if he had lost something. Without being prompted, he had continued to vent, saying he had ignored his errors in his undercover work both as Matches Malone and most recently to investigate the Joker cards. As he listed off the subtle signs that even I would have ignored, I found myself thinking back as well.

Letting small time thugs get the best of him, getting away.

Unable to put the pieces of the judgment killings together.

And then the planetarium, the icing on the hellish cake.

He had lost his Bat-Mojo

Naturally, Bruce had refused to let me take him to a human being with certification in modern medicine that night. After radio graphing it in the medical bay, he had splinted his own hand, claiming it was nothing more than a hairline fracture of his metacarpals. The angry bruising that had crept out from under the hand splint had suggested otherwise.

I had expected him to remain in the Cave to further torment himself by pondering how he could have prevented the attack. Instead, after he tossed out the used medical supplies, he looked to me and asked, "Ready?"

The walk up to the master bedroom had been long and silent. Upon reaching the third floor, Bruce took a moment to sneak a glance into two darkened bedrooms before following me to our room. As he changed and treated himself to much needed ibuprofen, I had taken a seat on the bed, my eyes never leaving him. I had somberly mused that he had made the trek upstairs to escape his pain when for so long he had gone to the Cave for the same reason.

As he had downed a glass of water at the bathroom sink, I had finally found my voice, "You're not broken, Bruce."

He had looked up at me suddenly, "Excuse me?"

After I had risen to my feet, I replied, "You heard me. There's nothing wrong with you…"

He had waited to reply until the glass was empty and back on the marble countertop, "But there is. I used to be able to look at one of his clues… and it would all come together in my mind. What his plan was, who he intended to go after… And now---."

"Exactly, that was then, this is now," I had started while approaching him, "Then, all you had to think about was him… you could let yourself be consumed by it because you didn't have anything else."

As my hand reached out for his unscathed one, he had replied, "That's not an excuse for---."

"It's an explanation, Bruce, I never said it was an excuse."

Without a word, he had gently lifted my left hand, his eyes on the ring he had given to me after pledging _until death do us part_.

Something about the look in his eyes made me shudder and I had a sudden need to lighten the mood. "And besides, he probably wants the same thing he always wants. Disorder and chaos in Gotham, pushing you to the brink of crossing the line and then escaping at the last second. Typical Pinky and the Brain complex."

My lame attempt at lightening the mood had been wasted on him and his lack of appreciation of nineties after school cartoons, as depicted by his arched brow. I further explained, "Trying to take over the world every night, hoping one time it will actually work."

"Ah," he had replied, without amusement.

After blocking out his tormented blue eyes and they way the dim bathroom light had struck his solemn face, I finally responded to Barbara, "Definitely. We're actually planning an event in July for kids six and under, puppeteer re-enactment of The Jungle Book… I'll get you tickets for the whole Gordon clan."

Barbara grinned, "That sounds fun… Wonder who'll have to keep an eye on more, Ethan or Dick."

"There might be an inflated jungle castle… so I would say Dick."

We returned to eating ice cream. After a few spoonfuls, she spoke again, "So… I have to ask…"

"It's Velvet ice cream, we're supposed to get all of their new flavors in June, including Lemon Cream Pie---."

Barbara shook her head, "Good to know, but not what I wanted to ask." I set my spoon down and looked to her as she continued, "How did he really break his hand?"

Aside from Bruce, Clark and myself, everyone else was under the impression that he had taken his frustration out on a punching bag, hitting it hard enough to suffer from a Boxer's fracture. It was logically sound considering that Bruce was more than capable of performing such a feat without a moment's hesitation. He could have lied to me about and I would have never doubted him.

But he hadn't lied.

… _I'm not fine…_

And there was no point in lying to her.

… _I'm broken…_

"Why do you ask?"

She nodded, smiling her all knowing smile, "Well, I found it interesting that although a certain Kryptonian helped clear victims from the wreckage, he didn't stay for a customary smile into the camera or even a brief chat with Tim. It was almost as if he was… upset."

"Wasn't there an earthquake that night in California, he must have headed right over after leaving here."

"There was," replied the all knowing Oracle, "But until three hours after he left Gotham." When I returned my focus to my ice cream, she continued, "They fought, didn't they?"

I looked across the dining hall to see Nathan proudly wearing a spoon on his nose.

Finally, I responded, "Clark dropped by the Cave… insisted he could help with the Joker but Bruce shot him down. Unfortunately, at that moment, that's when the Joker struck and Clark made a snide comment that Bruce needed his help after all."

"Ouch."

"So said Bruce after he punched Clark bare handed…"

She shook her head, "I can't believe he would do something like that… Clark, I mean, I believe Bruce would hit him…"

I shrugged, then forced a smile and threw a wave in my son's direction as he smiled proudly, "I know… But in all fairness, Bruce is never a sweet heart when it comes to the Looney Tune."

As Dick had once said, "The Joker brings out the worst in him. The worst in all of us."

Truer words…

The last three days had been a sore reminder of just how much I had missed in my husband's life. In our time together, I had certainly witnessed a fair share of the sulking and brooding as well as the fiery bursts of anger and silent, icy glares. In fact, before the bombing at the planetarium, I had believed that I had seen Bruce at his lowest and most base.

But on that gurney in the Cave, in the soft light of the bathroom, as we laid in each others arms that night, I had seen something new: fear. It certainly wasn't fear of Superman retaliating or fear of the Joker's seemingly unpredictable plan moving onward without a hitch. Something else that escaped me…

A lifetime ago, I had almost welcomed a Joker escape because it meant I could work without interruption. That was before I knew the faces behind the masks, faces that quickly became Family.

I had been absent in Bruce's life when the Joker had shot Dick.

Killed Jason.

Kidnapped Jim.

Paralyzed Barbara.

Now, I wasn't going to miss a second of it.

^V^

I had intended on having dinner on the table, the apartment squeaky clean and laundry folded and put away by the time Barbara made it home from a day of playing first grade chaperone. Given the fact that my only other responsibility was feeding, changing and playing with my son, it shouldn't have been a problem.

Yeah, right.

I started the day at half passed seven when Barbara set Ethan on my chest and smacked me in the face in order to wake me up. From there it had been a long morning of programs on the Noggin channel, chasing him on my hands and knees as he tried his best to run on his chubby little legs followed by an entertaining, albeit messy lunch of Chicken and Stars organic pasta, large rice crisp cereals and tiny slices of avocado.

After washing him up and reading him until he went down for a nap, I nearly started cleaning but instead opted for my own lunch and nap, the baby monitor nestled on my chest in case he woke up.

Unfortunately, rather than sleeping until one-thirty or two like he usually did, the extra activity from that morning had kept him sleeping like a baby until nearly three-thirty. With Barbara de back by five, I had less than two hours to perform all of the tasks that I had needed the entire day to accomplish.

I set Ethan up in his hanging bounce chair with a few toys and a sippie cup of toddlerized juice before attacking the apartment Yosemite Sam style. As he jumped and played and squealed, I raced around the house with a Swiffer mop in one hand and a bottle of Frebreeze in the other. Not the Good Housekeeping way of cleaning but it certainly got the job done. From there I frantically loaded the dishwasher, stuffed the two loads of wash I hadn't done into the front load washer before calling in to order from the Italian place a block away.

So when Barbara passed through the door at ten after six, the house was somewhat clean, the laundry was in the dryer and two place settings were on the table featuring stuffed manicotti, house salads and a steaming loaf of garlic bread.

"Oh, see, I knew I married you for a reason," Barbara greeted me with a kiss on one cheek and a smack on the other.

As she took her place at the table, I poured her a glass of chocolate milk before pouring one for myself. While she laughed, I stepped out and retrieved Ethan, setting him down in his high chair to his own feast of sliced up spinach tortellini, sliced up veggies to make his own finger food version of a side salad. Out of the four meals he ate a day, not including snacks and drinks, he rarely finished his dinner and often played with it rather than ingesting it.

Letting Barbara eat, I took on the task of encouraging Ethan to eat at least half of his dinner. His love for green things, thanks to Franklin the Turtle, he was fairly eager to eat the spinach pasta pieces in addition to the bits of green beans, cucumber and broccoli. As he finally began to fuss, I handed him his sippie cup of soy milk before turning to my own plate.

"So, how was the field trip?" I asked before digging in.

Barbara sipped her chocolate milk as if it were a fine Cabernet and replied, "Good, we're have to back p this summer, with Jim, Mo and Sarah for the little kids thing they're going to have. Selina said she'd get us all tickets."

"Nice. Yeah, I bet Sarah would love it, all the animals… She's been asking for a cat I guess," I felt a tiny paw on my foot followed by heavy panting on my shin, "Good thing we already have Frankie Viggs here, Ethan won't need to beg for a pet."

"Pet? You know he's practically my adopted brother."

I snickered before raising my glass, "Well played, madam."

We clinked glasses before she said, "So you were right, Bruce broke his hand on Clark's face."

Nodding, I cut open a manicotti and replied, "I told you. I've known the both them almost my entire life… If Bruce ignores us it's no big deal, but if he _and _Clark ignore us then there was either a physical altercation or Bruce picked on Clark's hair. Sometimes both."

Since the planetarium attack, Bruce had been off the radar. Where in the past he would have practically moved into the Cave in order to quadruple his efforts to close in on the Joker, he had done the opposite. Barbara had no record of him logging onto the system since late Saturday night and even fax social attempts to get in touch on his cell had gone unanswered.

Even though Barbara had agreed to help Selina chaperone Nathan's trip in Bruce's stead out of the goodness of her heart, it was also to snoop a bit via some good old fashioned girl chat. When they were alone, Barbara and Selina often vented about myself and Bruce respectively and I felt it was a good chance to find out what was going on with him.

After all, it wasn't like Bruce was going to chat with me over lattes and scones.

As Frank started drooling, I continued, "She say anything else about him?"

She shook her head, lying with body language since she didn't want to lie with words. Since we were at the dinner table, I didn't push the matter and instead changed the subject with a rehash of the Daddy and Ethan day.

I didn't bring it up after we bathed him, including the dreaded ear cleaning and nail clipping. We kept or focus on him, settling him down before finally getting him to bed. Not even after I warmed up and donned my suit in the training room. In fact I was ready to head out for patrols when the topic finally surfaced once more, but surprisingly enough it had been from Barbara's lips, not mine

With her back to me and her eyes on the monitors, she asked, "Can you go to him tonight, talk to him."

"Well, I wanted to head to Bludhaven after I get through my patrols here but yeah, I can hunt Tim down---."

"Bruce… I meant can you go talk to Bruce."

I had just put my mask on but for some reason, I took it off before replying, "Of course… why, what's up?" She didn't respond so I continued with, "Was it something Selina said?"

Barbara finally turned and looked up at me, her eyes glassy behind her glasses. I found myself kneeling, a fear suddenly burning in my stomach that I hadn't felt since before Bruce had told me he was stepping down. When I asked what Selina said, my voice was barely above a whisper even though we were alone.

"She didn't really say anything… I just… got this vibe from her that… I mean, if he was being a pain in the ass, she would have told me all about but she didn't say a word… Something's wrong, just like before."

I nodded, not surprised she was thinking along the same track as I had been.

… _But up until now, I didn't know what it was like for you… and for Jim to step down… To give up the role you had fought so hard to create…_

… _Bruce, what do you mean up until now, what are trying tell me?…_

Except this time Bruce had no other life but the one he lived.

I raced through patrols, fueled by some unknown demon. At half passed two, I came to terms with the fact that a trip to Bludhaven was officially out of the question. I took a break on the rooftop of the Capital One tower and used the Oracom to see if I could call in a favor to a certain someone. When I received no response or signal, I then contacted the hot and spicy Oracle.

"Hey, Red Hot, you have a twenty on Huntress?"

"Uh, no actually. She's been on and off radar for a the last couple of weeks."

"Ah, probably still irked about the lack of invite to the Bat Pow Wow. Oh well, I'm going to finish up in Stockton then maybe the Grove… make sure I wake him up from ua good sleep so he'll be bright and cheery."

"Wise beyond your thirty something years," she commented.

"Tru dat… And I figured I'll just crash there… maybe con Mattie into making crepes for breakfast."

"If you succeed, bring some home with you."

"I shall, my lady," I replied before she cut the connection.

Thankfully, the oddly warm spring weather had made the choice of taking the cycle out for the night a wise one. I had my little piece of Gotham patrolled by three and was speeding up St. James towards Bristol by quarter after. Even if Bruce was in bed, I would be sure to trip the silent alarm when entering the Cave, garnering his instant, undivided attention.

No Bat like sleep Deprived Bat.

Or Bruce, rather.

I made good time, passing through the secret entrance a little after three-thirty. Unlike my mentor, I was more than comfortable working in the Cave without being in my guise. I showered and changed into a spare set of sweats. After taking a seat at the computer, I reached into the mini fridge, confused to find my orange soda and Three Musketeers missing.

No doubt Bruce had thrown it out.

"Awful late, isn't' it?" Bruce's voice echoed off of the stalactites.

"Oh please," I leaned the chair as far back as it would allow me to, "It's never too late for you."

He was dressed in a dark house coat over black silk pajama pants that still managed to shimmer in the dim lighting of the Cave. All of the dark material made the splint on his hand stand out even more, drawing my eyes without permission of my brain. If Bruce had noticed, he didn't seem to care. He went silent as he closed the distance between us, only clearing his throat when he stood beside the chair.

"I would tell Ethan to use his words."

He cleared his throat again.

"But you're much bigger than Ethan so… here you go," I got to my feet and gestured for him to take the chair.

Instead, he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, keeping the injured hand hidden. Still without saying a word, he kept his gaze on me, silently asking why I was there.

"So, how's the hand?"

"Fine."

Next question.

"Barbara said Nate had a blast on his field trip."

Finally, a crack in his stoic look as he smirked for a fraction of a second, "So I've heard."

"Shame you couldn't go, did you have a meeting or something?"

He shook his head, looking to the blank monitor for a moment before replying out loud, "Something."

This is going swimmingly, I thought to myself.

I decided to cut through the awkward silence and forced chit chat and simply said, "You know, we're all to blame. Not just you, Bruce. I know how much you love having another reason to hate yourself but you have to share this one with the rest of us."

Bruce's eyes widened slightly, "Is that so?"

I nodded as I strode closer to him, leaving a mere foot between us, "It is. And while I'm on this bold little rant, I'm going to tell you to start sulking right and proper… sitting at this damn computer all night like a normal crazy person."

His brow rose, accenting the surprised look in his eye.

"We need you and all your obsessive, compulsive anal retentiveness to find him, Bruce. He hasn't attacked us on a personal level yet so you know this is just the beginning---."

He cut me off with, "That's what I'm afraid of."

"What?"

"He hasn't attacked us personally yet. Each of us has more to lose now… more than ever."

I had turned the conversation far too serious for my liking. Thinking fast, as I often did, I replied, "Exactly. Which is why you need to sit in that chair and start pestering my wife instead of staying upstairs and pestering yours."

His brow rose again, this time in amusement.

While on a roll, I decided to add, "And now on to more important things… like what happened to my secret candy and soda stash?"

^V^

Since the first Spring Clean Up week at the barn had been rained out the last week in March, the new one had been scheduled for the first week in April. Every day, clients, riding students, boarders and their families were invited to come help spruce up the expansive facility in order to prepare for the busy riding season. I had planned on going every day but Dad had suggested I go twice during the week and then either day of the weekend.

I only agreed when I suggested in return that he accompany me.

Wednesday afternoon, he was waiting for me at the middle school's carpool pick up area in a glossy black Pathfinder. After hopping into the passenger seat, I looked him over briefly to see he was wearing dark stone washed jeans, a navy blue polo that bore the logo of Woodland Farm and a matching visor.

I couldn't help but laugh as I buckled my seat belt.

"What?" he asked before putting the car into drive.

"Nothing," I replied before adding, "Can we stop and get carrots?"

"Step ahead of you, kiddo," he nodded to the back seat and sure enough there were three recycled brown paper bags full of carrots and apples from the organic market Alfred loved.

When we arrived, I left Dad so I could change from my school clothes into khaki capris and a sleeveless tee. Even though it was only the beginning of April, it was nearly seventy degrees and I needed to get started on my tan. Upon exiting the student locker room, it took a few minutes to find him. Instead of waiting in the lounge as he often did, Dad was at Rusty's stall, petting my former pony through the wrought iron bars.

"Why isn't he outside like the others?"

I skimmed over the clipboard that was hanging on his stall door and then looked him over, "He has a hoof abscess Dad, see," I pointed at the bright blue adhesive wrap that was protecting the tender hoof.

"He's going to be all right?"

"He'll be fine, won't you Rust-bucket?" I kissed his black nose through the bars.

After unloading the vegetables and dropping them off on the feed room counter, I lead the search for Janet. As the manager, she had a number of people that worked under her to help maintain the forty-six stall barn and the fifty-two acre grounds but she always encouraged her clients to pitch in. She had once told me that many of her wealthier clients needed some dirt under their fingernails to keep them grounded on place she liked to call Earth.

I didn't know about them, but I loved helping out, anything from dusting cobwebs to mucking stalls.

Well, maybe not mucking but certainly bedding them with fresh shavings.

We found her in the boarder tack room, helping a group of middle aged women get started on cleaning some of the spare tack that rarely came out of the storage closet. I told her that Dad had brought snacks for the horses and Janet had smirked at him, "Forget the horses, what about the people?"

I looked up as he offered a surprised look, "I can run back out…"

Janet patted his arm, "Oh, I'm sure we'll live, although Selina did say something about maybe having a luncheon this weekend for… What happened to your hand?"

He raised the injured hand but before he could explain, I stepped in, "He was working out on the punch bag at home, hit it a little too hard, hunh, Dad?"

"Need to drink more milk, I guess…" he smirked.

"Well if it starts to bother you, we can find you a bit less demanding of a chore…"

"Oh," he said, "It's fine. Serves me right… have to remind myself every once in a while that I'm not young anymore."

We were assigned the task of picking rocks from the paddocks that ran on either side of the long, gravel driveway, primarily because Dad was the only one strong enough to push a wheelbarrow full of stones. Knowing that the winter and rain had unearthed a number of rocks from the ground, I was quick to head out front to get started.

"Oh, almost forgot…" I paused when passing the lounge and snuck inside to grab a bottle of suntan lotion. After rubbing some on my face, neck, arms and legs, I brought it out to Dad so he could do the same.

When he was done, he looked at me and I laughed at the big blob of white on his nose.

"What?"

"Nothing…"

At first, we talked quite a bit as we worked through the half acre paddocks, moving from the farthest corner back to the closest. Given we only had a few hours of light, Dad predicted we would only get through three of them. The conversation dwindled as we ran out of father and daughter topics and we barely said a word to one another as we finished the first paddock.

He went to dump the wheelbarrow, a feat which had caused the muscles in his arm to bulge in a way that Kat would of drooled over, in a pile outside the paddock gate. John, Janet's husband, would be by later to pick them up with the tractor. When Dad returned, we headed to the next paddock, one which had two Welsh ponies in it.

"Scared?" I asked when he hesitated.

"Well, I do smell like carrots and apples…"

The ponies walked over to us briefly but when they realized we had nothing to feed them they returned to grazing on the bits of grass that were finally coming in green. Well out of earshot of any human being, I felt it was safe to start up a conversation with him again.

A new topic, at that.

"Dad, who's the Huntress?"

He had been in the process of unearthing a rock that was half submerged in the ground. With his hands never leaving their work, he looked up at me, started to speak and then glanced back down before asking, "Why do you ask?"

"Well, she's in the logs every once in a while… And.. I heard Tim and Cass talk about her Sunday when I went down to work with them… Who is she?"

"What were they talking about?" he asked, his voice changing slightly.

"They wanted to apologize to her… but wondered if it was too late. She works with them right?"

He sighed in defeat even though he finally pulled the basketball sized rock from the Earth. After putting it into the wheelbarrow, he walked over to the post and board fence and leaned against it. I joined him, climbing up to the top board to sit on it.

"She… She works on her own. Occasionally, she desires to join our work but it's never long before she errs and either leaves on her own or is ordered away."

"Why?"

He paused again before explaining, "We use controlled emotions and moderate violence in order to carry out our work. Huntress has never learned to control her emotions, which makes her extremely dangerous and violent, to us… and to those we fight against. Her intentions were once noble but she soon lost to her bottomless desire for vengeance."

"I read part of her dossier… She's an orphan, like you and Dick."

"Yes… I… Crime took her family away. But rather than dedicate her life to justice, she's opted to sacrifice others to ease her pain." He looked over at me, his face as solemn as his voice, "She has crossed the line that all of us have vowed to uphold. She has no warrants against taking a life."

"So, that's why she's not part of the Family? Can't you help her?"

Dad shook his head, "We have all tried to reach out to her. But her judgment is poor and her temper is unpredictable. She stood by my side in No Man's Land only to turn around and let people we had vowed to protect die…. Even before that, I had her inducted into the JLA but she nearly killed one of our prisoners simply because she wanted to… As much as she wants to change, she never will."

"Do you hate her?"

Surprisingly, he responded without thinking, "No… I pity her."

We finished up the ponies' paddock just as it became feeding time at the barn. While Janet instructed Dad on how much hay to throw to each stall, I helped bring in horses from their paddocks before going through and feeding their prepared grain buckets. After washing up, we said good bye to Janet and promised to be there Friday afternoon to resume our work.

We drove home in near silence. Upon pulling in the garage, I smiled to see the kitchen lights were on. As we passed through the service entrance, I heard Nathan and Mom's voices in addition to bubbling water.

"Boots off, Dad," I reminded him as he nearly continued towards the kitchen.

"What would I do without you, kitten?" he asked as he knelt to untie his boots. Although I had reminded him to cover the basics with suntan lotion, there had been one spot neither of us had remembered. As he crouched before me, I let out a gasp and then covered my mouth. Dad looked up and asked what was wrong but I ran out of the small atrium before allowing myself to laugh out loud.

Next time, he'd have to wear a hat, not a visor.

We decided to make use of the freakishly warm evening by having dinner out on the rear terrace. Mom and Nathan offered to serve the hard workers and asked us to head out and sit at the table. Keeping my eyes off of my father, I managed to control the giggles, at least until Mom walked by him, carrying a pitcher of ice water and a bottle of white wine.

"Ouch…" she said as she set the drinks down on the table, "Might want to put some aloe on that."

"On what?" Dad asked as he felt the back of his neck, "I put sunblock on…"

Mom patted the crown of Dad's head, where the skin was bright red under a patch of thin hair, "Think you missed a spot, my love."

Dinner was fairly uneventful after that, mainly focusing on Nathan's trip from the day before as well as how everyone was at the barn. With my little brother's help, I convinced Dad to let us go swimming for a bit after dinner and homework. Rather than join us, Mom and Dad at sat on the edge, allowing their legs to hang in the water.

Instead of smiling as they talked in secret, I saw both of them frowning slightly.

Deciding I needed to rest up for the next day's gymnast practice, I opted to shower after the pool and call it an early night. Dad stopped in my room on his way to put Nathan to bed, holding my brother upside down above me so that I could kiss him good night.

"Not too late, kitten," Dad had added as he left the room.

I let out a real yawn and replied, "Don't worry, I'm spent."

He yawned as well, "That makes two of us."

It was then I realized what Dad had said earlier, as we talked on the white fenced paddocks.

When he had talked about the Family and it's relationship with Huntress, he had said, "Us."

The dictionary said that _Us _was the objective case of _We_, meaning _I and the rest of a group that includes me._

Whether he had intended to or not, he had subconsciously included me into the Family.

The real Family.

^V^

"You should be grateful it grew back at all, Bruce."

I sat on the edge of the bath tub as Selina stood above me, carefully applying a lidocaine laced aloe and Vitamin E cream to the top of my burned scalp. A sore reminder of my age courtesy of spending the afternoon with my daughter.

Rather than responding to her, I settled on a quiet grunt of disapproval.

After wiping her hands clean with a towel and setting it along with the lotion bottle beside the sink, Selina joined me on the tub's edge. We hadn't seen much of one another in the last two days, which had been the complete reverse from the two days prior to that.

I had come to terms that my grievous error had been the reason why we had been unable to narrow down the Joker's target, resulting in the deaths of over a hundred and fifty people. As looming as the figure was, I knew it was only a fraction of what was to come if we were unable to track him down.

The two days that followed, I had done my best to avoid the Cave of which had instantly become a cause for concern to Selina and the others. Rather than studying every minute detail of the explosion, Nathan and I went on a hike through the wooded property, taking molds of animal foot prints as we came upon them. Instead of physically pushing myself to the limit in the training bay, I iced my hand and rested it every six hours. Also, when I should have been up all hours of the night going over the murders the Joker had committed thus far, I had been in bed before eleven, Selina's head resting on my chest.

Which was why I hadn't been surprised by Dick's visit late Tuesday night.

When the alarm had sounded, disguised as three short tones sounding on my cell phone, I had instantly risen from the bed, making a call to Barbara. She had informed me that Dick had planned on dropping in and possibly staying the night. I had been quick to translate her tone and words as being a result from a fight, no doubt fueled by the unrelenting stress we had all taken on.

By the time I had made it to the Cave, Dick had showered and changed into civilian garb and was at the computer, defying gravity as he leaned in the chair.

Not wanting to interfere with, or hear about, his marital affairs, I had been pleasantly surprised to find out that he had made the drive to Bristol in order to complain about me… to me. Small talk had quickly turned to him practically ordering me to stop moping and to start working. Apparently, I was the only one who believed that I was useless. I nearly divulged this to him, as well as what I had told Selina on that dreaded first of April, but had opted not to. Although I had grown closer to Dick in the last ten years, I still found it difficult to tell him everything.

At least not until I needed to.

…_Bruce, what do you mean up until now, what are trying tell me?…_

He left me alone in the Cave not long after, claiming he had a long day of interviewing new employees for the Firm. As Selina had mentioned the week before, they were looking at hiring at least two full-time employees to cover the overflow of work. Given that Dick, Tim and Cassandra had their attention elsewhere, Will was trying to cover the best he could but was starting to get in over his head.

"Better?" Selina's voice brought me back.

I gently touched the warm skin on my head and nodded, "Much."

"We'll have to get you a cowboy hat for the next time you go."

"Wonderful," I replied quietly.

She shoved into my slightly before rising to her feet once more, "Oh, get over yourself."

"I am beyond over myself," I said, getting up as well, "I'm into you."

When I went to put my hands on her hips, she brushed them away, "No time for love, Dr. Jones, you had your chance this morning."

I found myself thinking back to six-thirty that morning, not more than an hour and a half after I had returned to bed. Selina, after her full night of sleep, had tried waking me for a morning interlude. By the time she had disrobed both of us, I had fallen back asleep after saying something about King Tut needing another knock on the head.

Defending myself, I replied, "I was sleepy…"

"Snooze you lose," she countered.

I tried to reach for her again as we passed into the bedroom but she was quick to latch on to my broken hand, deftly pinching through the splint onto the bruised flesh. After forcing myself to stomach a yelped curse of pain, she grinned up at me in triumph.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, dear."

Once she had released me, I was tempted to retaliate but decided that doing so would no doubt shorten my life expectancy. I left her in the bedroom and made my way to the stairs, taking two at a time in order to reach the ground floor as quickly as possible. Dick, as a child and no doubt as an adult when no one was looking, would have opted to slide down the broad banisters on either his socked feet or rear end.

My watch read just after ten when I passed through the secret entrance. I took the stone steps one at a time, softening my footfalls as to not disturb the hundreds of beady eyed residents above. I glanced to the computer bay briefly, but knew that once I sat in the chair, I would be there for the night. Instead, I chose to direct myself to the training bay, wanting to work out the stiffness in my shoulders and back from picking up rocks that afternoon.

As I warmed up with shadow boxing, vertical and lateral stretches, I took to working through a number of katas, both slow and peaceful as well as quick and painful. As my internal clock put it near midnight, I positioned myself hanging upside down by the knees on the chin up bar embedded into the wall of the Cave. After a few dozen crunches, my blood was pumping once more and my breath was short and concentrated.

Alfred had once joked that I had gone too far since I was only able to clear my mind when I was upside down.

Alfred…

The morning after the bombing, I had been up by eight that morning in order to call Alfred on his noon break. Naturally, he wasn't in and I had called every twenty minutes until he finally had answered at half passed two.

"I'm terribly sorry, Master Bruce, I'm afraid we're a bit swamped today with toddler vaccines and health evaluations…"

"I can call back---," I had started.

"Nonsense, sir. You are very much an equal to a clinic full of crying children… At least in regards to how well you respond to medical treatment."

The next words I had intended to say was that I needed him back in Gotham.

Instead, I had asked if he had heard the latest.

"I am afraid I haven't, sir. Our satellite television has been down for nearly two weeks and the mail comes about as often… Might I inquire as to what has happened, sir?"

After hearing the dread in his voice, I hesitated, choosing my words carefully, "Oh… Nothing, just… Nathan has a school trip to the Preserve on Tuesday… I'm sure Selina will be sending you pictures."

"Splendid, Master Bruce. I must say it would be perfect timing, the photographs we have are from last Christmas, surely he must be a man grown by now."

I found myself smiling as I replied, "He seems to think so."

"And Miss Mattie must be preparing for her next gymnastics meet, no doubt."

"Constantly," my smile faded slowly, "She nearly tumbled into the display cabinet in the library the other day after using the couch as a vault."

"Well, no worse than Master Dick's antics with the chandelier," he had chuckled softly before letting his voice lower, "And how are you fairing, Master Bruce?"

"Fairly" I had answered.

He had been quick translate the response and had countered with, "Barely, you mean."

From there, we had spoken for nearly forty minutes about the case, about my poor judgment as well as how things had begun to spin out of control. The more I had divulged, the less he had responded. Eventually, I had found myself with nothing left to say and had simply waited for his words of wisdom.

"Master Bruce, we have been down this particular road many a time, always leading us to tragedy. Instinct will tell you to lose yourself in this mad man, to put aside your life in order to enter his, but you must resist. After all that you have endured, there is only so much you can put yourself through… and surface unscathed." I had glanced down at my hand as he had continued, "Master Tim has proved himself to be more than worthy of the mantle you have bestowed upon him… perhaps it is time you let him realize the same."

"I can't stand by, Alfred, not for the Joker…"

He had then inferred, "Understandable… However, you must remember that the more they rely on you, the less they will rely on each other."

And for the first time in as far as I could remember, I had heeded Alfred's advice.

When I had been preparing to step down as Batman just over seven years earlier, I had practically cut myself from them, testing them in order to see how they would fair without me. For weeks I had remained off radar, out of communication and had evaded their attempts to hunt me down.

And they had survived.

With the Joker, I had felt an unrelenting drive to pursue him, which was only fueled with every life he took and every day he walked the streets as a free man. He had taken so much from me, from our Family, that I wanted nothing more than to be there when we finally cornered him. I wanted to be the one with his blood on my gloves, my boot crushing his ribs, my hands around his pencil neck…

But in the end it would be Tim, not me.

Although it had taken years for me to convince myself I had settled into my new life, it had only taken seconds to realize that it all had been a lie. It was still very much a part of my everyday life, even though when I had retired I had promised myself that I was going to devote that time and energy to my family.

All a lie…

"Wow, now you're face matches the top of your head."

I had long since stopped the inverted crunches and had inadvertently taken to simply hanging upside down for at least fifteen minutes, based on the throbbing in my ears and temples. After glancing around, I found Selina approaching me, wearing my robe and loafers as she had for more than a decade.

After circulating blood back into my legs with a few, fast paced crunches followed by pumping my lower legs, I let go of the wrought iron bar and landed on my feet just as they regained most of their sensation.

As she closed the distance between us, Selina grabbed a towel off of a small in wall shelf and handed it to me, "Figured I'd be nice for once and work with your schedule."

Despite the fact that I caught a glimpse of bare flesh beneath the untied robe, I faked a frown and replied as I toweled my face off, "I don't know… I mean, I worked pretty hard… long day, you know… pretty tired. Might just call it a night."

"Are you sure?" she asked. Before I could reply, I felt manicured nails and strong fingers cupping my groin.

Still stoic, I answered, "Well, if you insist."

I stepped forward, leaving an inch of room between us of which she quickly moved into. As her arms wrapped around my neck, I reached down around her waist, lifting her up high enough so that she could wrap her legs around my torso. While kissing her, I somehow began to navigate to the stairs without looking but she bit my lower lip before growling, "Where are you going?"

"Upstairs, I thought---."

She bit me again, this time on the ear lobe, "Why would Batman take his prisoner into his home?"

Seven years ago, that would have had my pulse skyrocketing as I pressed her against the wall of the costume vault, taking her as she clawed the flesh of my back while biting my chest, her moans and growls only making me drive harder into her...

But it wasn't seven years ago.

And I wasn't Batman.

^V^

I couldn't remember the last time Selina had called me after seven-thirty at night.

For years, especially when Bruce had first returned to his mantle following his amnesia, we had spent many a night chatting and keeping each other entertained, especially on those rare evenings when criminals decided to behave themselves. If I thought back hard enough, the last late night phone call she had made to me had been during Bruce's stint as Matches Malone.

And we all knew how well that ended.

My personal cell phone range at half passed two and after picking up, I was greeted with, "Hey, are you busy?"

My screens put Tim in the Museum District, Cass in the Bowery and Dick slowly making his way into Coventry. Not one of them had contacted me since midnight so I rationalized that they were all big boys and girls and could take care of themselves for the time being.

"Sure, what's up?" I asked as I reflexively checked the computer link to the Cave's crays, showing Bruce was logged in on an invisible mode.

Please, like he could be invisible to me.

"Um… are you alone?"

"As always," I answered, "This time at night I think they forget I even exist unless Dick wants the electric combination to a locked back door at a Dunkin Donuts."

I had expected her to join in the banter of her "eldest son" but instead I hear her breath catch on the other end of the line. When I asked if everything was all right, she whispered her reply, "I… I just don't know."

"Selina?" I asked, the humor in my voice replaced with concern.

She took a breath before replying, "I'm fine… really, it's just that… I think we're getting old."

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, Bruce and I… It's starting to feel.. Different."

I thought for a moment before responding, "Different as in we need to go to the store on 87th and Rivington or different as in 'Meet Bob, Bob's been living large since he's made a call to Enzyte---."

"No… No, God, no… Nothing like that… Everything still works it's just… something's missing."

"As much as I love girl talk, I'm not sure I'm up for this kind of girl talk…"

Selina was quick to reply, "Well, too bad, I'm certainly not talking this over with my teenaged daughter."

"Fine… my ears are now yours…"

In far too many words than I felt were necessary, Selina rehashed her evening with Bruce, stopping to back track over the last few days. She even went as far as replying the night of the planetarium attack and how Bruce had punched Clark and then confessed his thoughts. By the time Selina had made it back to talking about how they had started to get hot and bothered earlier that night, it was nearly three.

"And I don't know what happened, he was carrying me to the stairs, systems were all go for launch and I… oh God."

"What?"

"I'm such an idiot…"

"Did you just answer your own dilemma?"

She hesitated and then continued, "He went to take us upstairs and when I told him no, he had asked why… And I had joked that Batman wouldn't take his prisoner into his own home…"

The thick skinned, emotionally vacant man that had once been Bruce Wayne would have no doubt shrugged it off and continued having his way with the beautiful woman in his arms.

But this Bruce…

"The second I said it he just stared at me and… he let me down to the floor and just walked away… I was thinking something was wrong but I didn't realize…. Mean he never minded before, he liked it actually… Damn me… We just had this big emotional upheaval a few days ago and… I made a joke out of it…"

"Yes, damn you…" I said automatically as a small light registered on my main monitor followed by Dick's voice on the speakers declaring he had four little piggies ready to go to market at the Wachovia Bank on Torrington Ave.

"Think it's too late to kiss and make up?" she inquired.

I glanced at my watch just as it turned to 03:00. My eyes then went to the activity log on a side monitor and sure enough, Bruce was still at it, accessing the files Tim and I had put together on the bombing.

"I'd give him twenty minutes. Then I'll block the crays and so you'll have his undivided attention."

"How dare they take you for granted, Barbara, how dare they."

"Agreed. Well, I guess I should say tell me how it goes but then again I don't think I want to know."

As if on cue, the second I hung up with Barbara, Bruce opened the comm. link, his face appearing tense, "O?"

I smiled, suddenly realizing how much I missed him calling me that. In return, I replied, "Yes, boss?"

"Are you alone?"

Oh grief…

"Yes, why?"

"Are you sure you're alone?"

"Yes, Bruce, I'm sure. What's up?"

"I… I don't know."

"Selina?" I asked.

He hesitated before asking a question he knew the answer to, "She called you?" Before I could answer, he continued, his voice rushing and his eyes began darting if he were embarrassed, "I apologize, then. She shouldn't have brought you into…"

"Oh, please Bruce, as the only mature women in this Family, excluding Cass because she still enjoys belching contests, we are fairly dependent on each other to maintain our sanity so that we don't kill our respective husbands."

Silence.

"Can I say something?"

"By all means," he sighed, looking away from the camera as his face began to redden while his pride dwindled.

"Don't be angry with her. She was probably just trying to cheer you up."

"Who said I needed to be cheered up?" he growled softly.

"No one, I mean… we all could use a little reminder as to what happiness is, especially now."

He didn't have anything to say about that.

Although he had changed the subject to the work at hand, I carried out my sneaky task after twenty minutes. In the middle of catching him up on what we hadn't gotten to the night before, I cut his access off of the crays and then proceeded to change his passwords so he wouldn't be able to regain access.

After all, us Bat-wives had to stick together.

^V^

I had been looking into the sky just as the Signal flared at three forty-five. After a seemingly endless night of quarreling with the general criminal population, I had actually found myself looking forward to taking a break and meeting with Kelsey.

If only Kelsey had been the one to flip the search light on…

There was no one standing beside the Signal, which had been my first clue that something was amiss. I sent a silent signal to Oracle on the comm. link, of which she would then alert the others that they may be needed in Tri-Corner. But with the both of them on the outskirts of the city, neither of them would make in time…

"Kelsey?" I growled but there was no response. It was as I turned to a soft sound by the door that I spotted Bryce's trench coat clad figure. No doubt he would have caught Hell for using the Signal for his own purposes…

Had it been Bryce.

As I approached, I heard a faint snicker from behind the Signal, causing me to look over while retrieving two handfuls of Batarangs, readying them for anything. The giggling grew for a moment and then turned to a sharp yelp of pain as I threw four razor sharp pieces of metal into my late night visitor.

The figure leapt to her feet and screamed, "Mistah J, look what Bat-Boy did!!!"

I followed her gaze to the small above ground structure that encompassed the door and the top of the stairs leading to the roof.

Mistah J.

The Joker.

Instinct took over and I unleashed the remaining Batarangs in his direction, surprised when he pulled out a GCPD riot shield in order to protect himself. As he leapt down from the small structure, he laughed, "It's amazing what you can find in a police station…" I lunged at him, driving him into the metal door hard enough to leave a dent. He shook his head as if he was righting his mad brain before looking back over my shoulder, "Show him what else we found, Harl!"

The two needles of a taser gun embedded themselves into my cheek and I found myself momentarily paralyzed aside from my flesh twitching and my teeth chattering. Harley kept her finger on the trigger, unleashing volt after volt into my face. As I ripped the cables away and tried to regain focus, the Joker smashed the riot shield into my face and called me a cheater-cheater pumpkin eater.

After taking a step back, I prepared to attack him once more, already aiming a bolo in Harley's direction.

It was then I saw a female figure laying face down in the far corner of the rooftop under a dark sheet.

Kelsey…

Joker followed my gaze and grinned, "Oh, Harl, he's seen his surprise…. Guess we should have put her in the cake after all!"

Harley laughed, and then cried out as she began pulling the Batarangs from her bleeding arm.

"What have you done?" I growled as I latched onto the Joker's purple lapels, slamming him once more into the metal door.

He coughed and then let his face twist into another smile, "Now, now, is that anyway to greet Uncle J? Especially after all these years…" I punched him in his kidney before he could finish, "*koff* My, my, Daddy has taught you well. You know all the right spots on the old punch bag, don't you?"

I kneed him the belly before punching him twice in the face, hard enough to split his lip and to crack his nose open.

"Okay, maybe Daddy taught you too well… He was always one to pummel first and ask questions later… Which is why I brought BoBo along…"

Just after I felt a presence approaching from behind, a solid blow fell on the base of my head and I found myself dropping to a knee while letting the Joker go. He took advantage of my momentary weakness by returning the blows I had just delivered him. And then some. Head spinning, I rose to my feet, ready to face my attacker but he had moved to stand behind the Joker.

"Now, I came here to give you a graduation gift… and if you don't start behaving yourself, you're not going to get it."

"A gift? From you?" I found my breaths coming shorter as my side grew tighter, "The only gift I want from you is another ten years of silence."

"Party pooper," he snickered, "And don't worry, I blame Daddy for all that nonsense with the ten-year snooze fest, so don't fret, I won't be taking it out on you," he turned and nodded at the large, bald man who proceeded to approach the woman lying on the rooftop.

As I retrieved a tracer to embed into the Joker's flesh the next time I got my hands on him, he continued, "Like I said before, this is a bit of a graduation gift… seeing how you've moved on from the red tights to the black... Far more slimming by the way… I could have just tossed this with the trash but I figured you'd probably want it back… It's not in the best of conditions but…"

The man carried the figure over and as he passed the Joker, I noticed she wasn't wrapped in a black blanket.

It was a black cape.

Cassandra…

I'll kill him…

The Joker finished as the man dropped the body at my feet, "I think if you get it to a hospital within the next ten minutes or so you might be able to stop all that pesky leaking…"

No, not Cass...

"Huntress," I found myself gasping as I fell to my knees, quickly scouring her bloodied and bruised body trying to find the worst of her injuries. Shock washed over me when I realized that there were at least six major penetrating wounds to her torso, all of which were leaking continuously.

The Joker had given her ten minutes but she had less than five.

Bloodshot eyes opened under her mask and a faint smile registered on her lips before she tried to croak something that might have been, "You saved me."

The Joker peered over as well and said, "Eww…"

I lunged to my feet, slamming the tracking device into his neck as I began pummeling him once more, growls escaping my lips in place of intelligible words. With every blow the Joker laughed louder until it was all I could hear. As his henchman approached to break us apart, the Joker shook his head and waved him off before speaking hoarsely, "Now, kiddo, remember what Daddy taught you…"

"He's not my father," I snapped, slamming my fist into his soft stomach.

"Oh, I know, but… even still… remember…who do you choose… helping the damsel in distress or catching the bad guy?"

Despite all that was happening, I found myself thinking back to when I had been a cocky teenager, working with Bruce in the Bat-Cave a lifetime ago. He had taught me so much in such little time that I had trouble letting it all sink in, but there had been one thing that I would never forget…

… _The life of an innocent is the most important in any situation. It's more valuable than that of your enemy, it is more precious than your own_…

A wet coughing snapped me back to attention and I let the Joker's throat go in order to return to Huntress's side, quickly putting pressure on her abdominal wound while retaking her vitals.

"Good boy," the Joker leered from behind me, "Good boy…"

Time slowed as laughter and footsteps faded from the rooftop and as Helena's pulse slowed. I had Oracle call in emergency medical units but I knew they wouldn't get there in time, not even the MedEvac helicopter. I did my best to evaluate her condition objectively but I had trouble blotting out memories of her calling me "Kid" and roughing up my spiky hair when I had been Robin.

"Hang on, Helena, they're on their way."

She winced weakly and shook her head, "No… No, please…"

"He's gone, he's gone…" I offered, trying not to let my analytical mind piece together that a number of her wounds had been medically treated in the last few days. That she had IV marks on her arms and hands. That a rough estimate put her ribs were not only broken but blatantly visible through her skin from sudden weight loss.

The Joker had kept her alive long enough to…

We had been out of contact with her for only four days…

We should have been looking for her…

I should have…

"I'm.. sorry…" she barely managed.

"You've nothing to be sorry for. Nothing."

Tears slipped over her cheeks, turning red as they mixed with blood, new and old, "Yes, I do."

I went to hold her hand, in order to offer her some sort of comfort but paused when I saw she held a folded piece of paper.

Dear God…

Her heart gave out two minutes later and I performed artificial respiration on her for the ten minutes that lapsed between her last breath and the medics arriving. Kelsey arrived not long after, coming in because she saw the Signal had been lit without her permission.

When I had told her that I had let the Joker get away, I could have sworn she was going to hit me.

After Huntress was loaded into the chopper, Nightwing called in from across the street, asking what had happened.

I told him that I would meet him back at the Watchtower and that Oracle needed to call Bruce so he could formally lock down the Manor.

"Damnit, Tim, what the hell is going on?" he cried into the comm. link, "Who was that in the chopper?"

Instead of answering him, I began wiping blood from my face, fleeing the rooftop before Kelsey or any of the other could see the hot tears brimming in my eyes. By the time I made it to the Clocktower, Dick and Cass were present, their masks pulled back and the faces lost in anger and confusion. Barbara was fighting back tears and Bruce's face showed a hint of a emotion on the main monitor. I asked if the Manor was secure and he nodded, his eyes demanding to know why.

I pulled my own mask back, not caring that they saw my red eyes or furrowed brow.

Without emotion, I recounted the fifteen minutes I had spent on the rooftop of Gotham City Police Headquarters. From the second I had responded to the Signal to the moment I had watched as paramedics taken charge of Helena Bertinelli, pumping her full of epinephrine and electricity.

The room went silent as Barbara announced that she had confirmed with the commissioner that Mercy General had declared the masked Jane Doe dead upon arrival.

Rather than go into a hypothesis that the Joker had kidnapped and tortured Huntress in order to strike out at us, Bruce asked solemnly, "Did she say anything?"

I nodded, "She apologized. Nothing specific, she just said that she was sorry."

Dick reached up to wipe his eyes, "Does it matter, Bruce… She was probably sorry for never living up to your god damn expectations!"

As Bruce started to counter the verbal attack, I rose my voice above the both of them, "Enough!" When the attention was back to me, I continued, "She had a hand written joke… just like the others… she was holding it in her palm… to give to me…"

"What was it?" Cass asked, the first she time she had spoken.

I retrieved the evidence bag from my utility belt, even though I had memorized the words the second I had first read them, as a woman I had once known as a friend had been dying in front of me.

As she begged for forgiveness with her last few breaths.

Helena…

"Old Catholics never die, they just get stuck in confession."

^V^


	8. Now And Then: VIII

Title: Now And Then: VIII

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language, adult situations and violence

Summary: The death of Huntress brings out the worst and best in the Family.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Chapter now complete, get comfy it's a long one (of course!!) I can't apologize for how long it's taken me to write this chapter but it was a difficult one to get through, on top of practically zero free time to write. Hopefully, it will be worth your wait.

A/N 2: "Very fin pancakes" is a little tribute to the best scene of Talladega Nights.

^V^

Unlike the antique and relic firearms of Wayne Manor's display cases, Barbara and I had nearly a dozen active firearms in the Clocktower, safely tucked away in three lock boxes. They ranged from her late father's service firearm to a sawed off shotgun for last resort efforts. Although I had been the one who had worn the badge, Barbara had taken the responsibility of maintaining them over the years, making sure they were ready should we ever need to use them.

Including my service weapon from my years on the Bludhaven Police Department.

The very same one I had killed a bank robber with…

Leaving Babs and Ethan behind to hunt down the Joker had left me with a uneasy feeling in my gut, even after my wife had promised to turn any green haired visitors to Swiss cheese. After our Clocktower briefing had adjourned, I had carefully moved Ethan's crib into the safety of the Oracle chamber, of which doubled as a panic room. I had somehow resisted the urge to pick him up and kiss his chubby cheeks and had settled on gently stroking one of his arms.

Somewhat satisfied they would be safe until my return, I joined Tim's efforts to follow the tracking device he had planted on the Joker. Surprisingly enough, the signal remained strong with no sign of interference which meant the Joker was unaware of its presence or, more likely, he wanted us to find him. Nearly an hour later, we had managed to close in on our target only to find that the clown had removed the pin tracer and put it in the scruff of a stray cat.

From there, Tim had opted to return to GCPD in order to face off with an infuriated Kelsey. When I had offered to go along he had instead ordered me to go to the morgue to get evidence before the coroner muffed everything up. Although it had been completely understandable for him to use the tone he had, he had quickly apologized, looking at me with soft eyes that belied the cowl's narrowed brow.

After breaking in through the rear entrance where departed loved ones, gang victims and unidentified bodies alike were dropped off, I began making my way towards the main coroner's lab. As eerie as it was, I had long since memorized numerous ways in and out of the morgue should I ever be confronted with any personnel.

It was a massive, cold, tiled room that always stank of sterile alcohol and death. Three of its walls were covered with stainless steel doors bearing detailed labels of those that resided within. I had been there hundreds of times since I had been a teenager, checking for clues on victims or stealing coroner reports without blinking an eye. But this was different.

After checking a white erase board that listed new residents under a scrawled heading of "Newbies", I found only one that hadn't been identified: **Jane Doe 209476-B (H-8)**. It took less than a minute to find the matching drawer but as I stood before it, one hand on the latch, I found myself unable to open it. My pulse began to throb in my temples and my breath started to come in short pants. Suddenly, I closed my eyes in order to attempt to regain control of my vitals, mentally reminding myself this was just a victim of the Joker, not a woman I had once---.

I carefully opened the drawer, pulling it out half way in order to reveal a still figure draped in a sterile green sheet.

Jane Doe.

Thinking back to Tim's brief review of her wide score of injuries, I found myself only pulling back the sheet to reveal her face. Her olive toned skin was overcome with a pallor, of which was mottled with bruises both new and old. Mocha colored hair that once flowed as gracefully as her cape was tangled and just as lifeless as she was.

Huntress.

I lifted the sheet up and glanced over the tattered remains of a once beautiful woman. A woman who had been orphaned through violence and had vowed to seek her revenge by any means necessary. She had forced her way into all of our lives, some more than others.

Tim had said that her last words had been pleas for forgiveness.

No, she had something to say even after one last breath had escaped her lips.

_Old Catholics never die, they just get stuck in confession._

Helena...

I gently brushed back a strand of hair, neatly tucking it behind a bruised ear. As Tim had described earlier that evening, she had a number of wounds that had been tended to before she had ended up on the medical examiner's to do list. The Joker had obviously found someone to treat the injuries he inflicted upon her in order to keep her alive. But why? To show how unmerciful he was, to remind us of what he was capable of, to use her as a plaything or did he simply put her demise off long enough for her to give him the information he wanted?

And there was only one thing a criminal wanted when it came to masked vigilantes.

Although Helena had deduced who Bruce, Barbara and I were, I was certain she wouldn't have divulged it to the Joker, no matter what. The extent of her injuries suggested she had remained passive to his inquiries for some time. By resisting his efforts and taking a stand against him, she had no doubt found herself victim to the Joker's infamous temper. She had obviously taken the brunt of his frustrations and when he finally had realized she wasn't going to divulge anything, she had become useless.

The question was, who was he going to turn to next.

For years, he had a disturbing obsession with Jim Gordon and other heads of law enforcement. With Jim gone and no other familiar faces in office, I couldn't help but dread which direction he was going to take. Luckily, Jim Jr., Maureen and Sarah were in Chicago visiting the ex- Mrs. Barbara Gordon so they were well out of the clown's murderous grasp. However, there was still Barbara and myself who were well within reach.

And Ethan.

I had yet to hear back from Tim about his meeting with Kelsey but no doubt she had a long string of four lettered words revolving around the general concept that the he had let the Joker escape.

When we had met in the Clocktower, Tim had detailed the face off with the Joker, cowl pulled back to reveal his battered face and glassy, bloodshot eyes. Although there would be little time spent mourning for Bruce, the rest of us had come to know and trust her once more. She had done wonders in Bludhaven, practically on her own accord.

Looking down at what had once been a vibrant face, I found myself thinking back to a cold evening, mere days after she had informed me that she had figured things out. We had just taken out a group of fourteen thugs, each of which heavily armed with home made weapons and veins full of drugs. As we tended to the few minor wounds we had suffered on a nearby rooftop, Huntress had started to laugh.

"What?" I had asked before wincing, a small gash on my forearm none to pleased to have a betadine scrub.

"Nothing," she had smiled sadly, "I was just… I just thought of the look on his face when… when I shot him."

There was no need to clarify what she was talking about. A lifetime ago, amidst one of the many heated discussions between Batman and Huntress, her cross bow had misfired and had impaled Bruce in the chest. Although he had been grievously injured, the expression on his face had been borderline hilarious as he simply stared down at the arrow sticking out him.

I had chuckled softly as well.

After examining the body of my former friend, ally and lover, I pulled the sheet back over her and pushed the drawer back in, the lock clicking softly but it seemed deafening in the silent lab. As I retraced my steps, I heard a soft tone sound in my right ear, followed by a voice that somewhat resembled my wife's.

"He wants to talk to you when you're through with patrols."

I nodded as I silently made my way back to the outside world, not surprised when the stench of death followed me, "I was going wait until after he was done with the commissioner---."

She interrupted with, "No…it's Bruce."

Once I was well out of hearing range of the handful of late night pedestrians, I replied, "You can put him through now---."

Barbara sighed before responding, "Actually, he wanted you to come to the Cave."

"I take it this can't wait until tomorrow?"

"Judging from the Bat-speak he delivered his request in, I would have to say no…"

I spent another two and half hours touring the city, coming across a number of unsavory teens that were up far passed their bedtimes. I couldn't help but think how Mattie's first teenage rebellion would be dressing up as Catwoman for Halloween. Then again, the poor girl's idea of a big night was reading old case files in the Cave, sitting in her pajamas curled up in her father's chair.

With a hot fudge sundae.

At ten after five, Barbara contacted me once more, this time her voice in full business mode, "Tim finally finished at GCPD, Kelsey actually had forensics hold off for him… Unfortunately there wasn't much of anything aside from blood from himself, the Joker and Huntress… No fingerprints on the BoBo character but he fit's the description of a hired goon that used to work for Salvatore Maroni."

"Old Sally knew how to pick them."

"He's been working on hunting down known associates but nothing so far. I'm still waiting on the coroner's report on---."

I waited for her to continue but after hearing her take a shaky breath, I found myself asking softly, "Babs… you all right?"

"I… Sorry. Just… think things are finally settling in."

My mind flashed images of Helena's battered face and I replied, "Yeah, same here."

She cleared her throat, something she did when she was battling tears, "Well you best get to getting, boy wonder... Time waits for no bat."

I managed to make it to the Cave a little after six in the morning and sure enough Bruce was waiting for me, standing in the center of the main platform, arms crossed over his broad chest. Removing my helmet as I stepped off of the cycle, I glanced up at him offering a solemn nod in place of my usual smirk.

The look on his face would have given Victor Fries a shiver down his spine.

Bat-voice, Bat-stance and Bat-glare. All that was missing was the Bat---.

"Have you finally realized the repercussions of your actions?"

"Excuse me?" I asked as I climbed the small set of steps.

"You heard me." His arms dropped to his sides and I suddenly realized he had taken off his splint. It had been less than week, surely his bones had magically healed through sheer willpower.

Rather than comment on it, I simply closed the mere yards between us as I responded, "Yes, I did. But I didn't understand you, hence why I asked---."

He stepped forward as well, the anger in his face causing my heart to skip a beat, "Your actions have endangered the lives of my children, of my family."

I should have said nothing. Instead, I countered with, "Funny, I'm pretty sure I'm one of your children… Used to be the only Family you had."

"You are more than capable of defending yourself," he snapped back.

Seeing how he was letting his emotions get the best of him, I did my best to try and regain my bearings. After a beat, I replied, "What actions?"

"Exposing our identities to Huntress."

I shook my head, biting my tongue briefly before speaking. "She figured it out Bruce… I mean… she's worked closely with all of us for over a decade, it was only a matter of time before---."

He interrupted me, "No… It wasn't a matter of time. You exposed yourself to her, your identity and in doing so, you exposed us all."

Ignoring the fact that he was skirting around a very sensitive topic for me, I continued evenly, "She didn't know who Tim and Cassandra were, said she didn't want to know… And I think it's a bit premature to assume she told the Joker about any of us."

"Premature?" he growled, "Should I wait until after he's hunted us down, one by one? There's no logical reasoning behind her keeping secrets that weren't hers to protect."

"Can't you wait until the body is cold before you start hurling the insults?"

Something flashed in his eyes before he stated, "Your view of her is jaded, your judgment is unfit."

The proverbial camel's back hath been broken.

"Is that so, Bruce? Then you must be far more jaded, considering the number of loved ones you've left dead in your path."

It's no wonder Clark didn't duck. I didn't know Bruce had even hit me until I was splayed on the cold stone floor, blood flowing from my lacerated lip. I would have looked up at him in shock but my eyes found a focal point far more interesting behind him.

As I sat up, carefully prodding the oozing flesh, I somehow found the will to smile, "You know what Bruce… I had always hoped that Mattie could live her life never having to see the real you," I made it to my feet, my eyes still locked behind Bruce, "Too bad…" I added before making my way back to the cycle.

While donning my helmet, I looked up just in time to see Bruce reach out towards the tear-stricken form of his daughter just as she spun and ran away from him, racing to the stairs without looking back.

Too bad.

^V^

Nearly five hours earlier, Bruce and I had reconciled after I had offended him with my creative innuendo, picking up right where we had left off in the Cave.

Three hours earlier, I had reached over to drape my arm across his chest but my fingers found his side of the bed empty and cold.

Fifteen minutes earlier, Mattie had peered into the master bedroom, retreating silently when she realized her father was absent.

Of which had been followed shortly by World War III.

When I had first heard rushed footfalls in the hall, I had rolled over in bed, preparing for Nathan to come barging in to wake me. I had promised him he could help make breakfast, of which he had already enthusiastically chosen to be chocolate chip pancakes. Rather than hearing his barely contained morning giggles, I heard Mattie's door slam, followed abruptly by someone pounding on it.

And then, "Mattie, open this door."

"Go away, I hate you!"

At that, I leapt to my feet, wrapping on Bruce's robe to spare me from nudity. I threw the doors open before jogging into the hall, "What the hell is---."

"Unlock this door," Bruce demanded, a growl creeping over his voice.

"Leave me alone!" came Mattie's muffled reply.

Not one to be ignored, I approached Bruce, "How about we don't use the Bat-Growl on our daughter?"

He acknowledged me with a cursory glare but chose to continue as if he hadn't heard me, "Mattie, I'm not asking again."

Silence from the other side.

"Bruce, _I'm _not asking again."

He pressed his left ear and both of his hands to the door before stepping back in order to gain momentum to slam into it. It was then I noticed the blood on his left hand, and that his right hand was bare of its splint.

"That's it," I growled before stepping behind him and latching onto his broken hand, wrenching back his pinkie and ring fingers until they audibly cracked. Out of surprise and mayhaps even pain, Bruce's stance faltered and I kicked his forward leg out from under him before snapping his fingers once more.

After he took to kneeling before me, Bruce managed to hold back any verbal expression of pain by grinding his teeth while asking, "What?"

"I said I wasn't going to ask again."

He sighed and relaxed his kneeling posture slightly in order to rise. I twisted the fingers in addition to pulling them back and he went back to his knee. "Mattie came down to the Cave… saw me arguing with Dick."

I nodded towards his bloodied hand, "I take it you weren't using your words in this argument."

"I didn't intend for her to see it."

"Bruce, you showed her how to enter the Cave. If you don't want her to see something, you best not do it."

Bruce could have easily disengaged himself from me in order to continue his charge on our daughter's room. Rather than doing so, he simply looked up at me, matching my glare with one of his own. "The Joker confronted Tim on the roof of police headquarters, forced him to chose between saving Huntress or coming after him. He chose the latter and now the Joker's free and Huntress is dead."

"And why exactly did you hit Dick instead of Tim?"

"Because of Dick's familiarity with Huntress… she knew who we were. And now… I'm certain that the Joker does."

I released his hand and asked, "What do you mean, you just said Tim had to choose between saving her and going after the Joker… Why would she---."

Bruce rose to his feet, once more turning to face Mattie's locked bedroom door, "He had her captive, no doubt for the last four days she's been out of contact."

I stomached the urge to hit him as I growled, "Why in the hell weren't they looking for her?"

"There was no cause for concern."

"Oh, I see, if it had been Dick or Cass, the JLA would have been scouring the globe but Helena---."

"Don't," he threw me an icy stare. I waited for him to continue but he remained silent. After he turned to Mattie's door, I expected him to plow through but instead, he turned towards me and made his way back to the stairs.

Not that fast…

I took long, quick strides after him, taking the sash from the robe in order to loop it around his neck as he approached the first step. When he went to reach up to remove it, I cinched it tightly with a sudden downward yank before kicking his broken hand. I slammed my knee into the small of his back before moving forward and pressing myself against him.

"One more thing…" I growled, pulling the sash even tighter around his trachea, "I don't give a damn if Dick invited the Joker over for tea, if I ever find out you hit him out of anger… or anyone else… in front of my children… you'll be shelling out alimony and child support faster than you can throw a Batarang. Got it?"

He should have said his customary _Yes, dear_.

But he didn't.

I promptly let go, after he made a garbled growling noise that might have been a sign of comprehension, before making my way to my daughter's room. Without looking back towards my husband, I rapped on her door softly, "Mattie, can I come in?"

"Is _he _with you?"

"No, and trust me, I'm as mad at him as you are."

There was thirty seconds of silence before the door clacked and clicked, drawing back a few inches to reveal a fraction of Mattie's reddened face.

When she finally pulled the door back completely, I stepped inside while offering a sad smile. She about faced, leaving me to shut the door, and then proceeded to march over to her bed, sitting with a heavy thud. I joined her, reaching back to stroke a slumbering Taffy before speaking, "Mattie, I'm sorry you had to see that."

"You shouldn't be apologizing to me," she snapped.

"I know… but even still, you shouldn't have seen what happened."

"Well, then he shouldn't have done it."

Great minds do think alike, I thought to myself before replying, "Exactly, and trust me he will be apologizing to you… and Dick."

"I don't care if ever talks to me again… How could he have done that? Dick is his son, he had no right to hit him… All these years he's said that violence is the last resort to solving a conflict and he just punched Dick right in the face for no reason---."

I set a hand on her shoulder, bringing a sudden stop to her tirade, "Mattie, when it comes to your father, there is always a reason."

"Huntress," she sighed heavily, "Helena… what happened to her?"

Seeing as how I barely knew anything aside from the fact that she had died from injuries inflicted by the Joker, I felt it wasn't my place to explain anything beyond, "Tim fought the Joker last night… and Helena…"

"She's dead isn't she?" After I nodded, Mattie continued, "Then why did Dad hit Dick?"

"Kiddo… your dad and Dick haven't always been close as they have been for the last few years… they have a long history together, a lot of it far from good. Even though they don't mean to do it, subconsciously… they know how to make the other one angry and when something bad happens, they---."

She interrupted, "Attack each other."

"Exactly. Mostly it's mentally and emotionally, like yelling or trying to blame one another for what has happened… And sometimes… if it's something serious… it gets physical."

She waited a long time before responding, "I hate him."

"No, you don't."

Mattie wiped her eyes before scowling, the expression turning her into a miniature Bruce, "I do. I can deal with him lying or sneaking around or ignoring me…"

I found myself replying with, "If you honestly hated him, you wouldn't care what he did. And this," I reached up to wipe at the stream of tears on her cheek, "Says you are mad at him and you have to love him in order to be mad at him… Now, let's start at the beginning."

Mattie drew a low breath, no doubt trying to recollect the innocent beginning of her day that had turned so ugly. She then began, "I woke up, went in your room and saw Dad was gone. After I couldn't find him in the house, I decided to go down to the Cave to see what he wanted for breakfast."

"Why didn't you just call down?" I asked, even though I knew her answer.

"I don't know… I just wanted to see him."

"All right, then what?"

"I heard Dad and Dick arguing but I couldn't hear what they were saying so I snuck up closer and hid behind one of the tables in the lab. I heard Dad yell at Dick, about exposing their identities to Huntress and when Dick tried to defend himself, Dad yelled back that his view was jaded of her and that his judgment was unfit…"

"And what did Dick say?"

"He…" she looked up at me before continuing, "He said that Dad was more jaded than he was considering how many loved ones he's left dead in his path… then Dad hit him."

I loved Dick. He had the same light in his eyes that he had as a pre-pubescent boy in tights. But he knew exactly how to hurt Bruce, in a way that drew no blood but caused visceral pain. Simply put, all he had to do was remind him of the people who Bruce had failed to save.

As temperamental as he had been since the Joker and Harley began their killing spree, Dick was lucky Bruce hadn't knocked his jaw off of his skull.

Mattie finally continued, "When we were coming up the stairs… he started to apologize to me, for me seeing what had happened… but… that doesn't mean he was sorry for doing it… if I hadn't been there to stop it… how far would it have gone?"

I tried to think of an answer but my line of thought went back to the legendary brawl Barbara had told me about when Bruce had decided to escape from Blackgate and denounce his name in order to hunt down Vesper Fairchild's true killer. She had barely been able to control her voice when she had described how Dick had taken hit after hit, demanding Bruce to answer his question, "If there's no Bruce Wayne, then who was Dick Grayson's adopted father?"

A question Bruce ignored while bloodying his fists on Dick's face.

^V^

I couldn't think of the last thing I had said to Helena Bertinelli.

Even though I spent the remainder of the night trying to find when and where the Joker had removed the tracer, looking into the history of the lumbering brute BoBo and dealing with Bruce's cursory questions and demands I still found myself being distracted by other memories.

The last thing I said to my father.

"I'll see you later, Dad."

To Sarah.

"I think it's going to be a happy New Year after all."

To my parents.

"Please, don't let him drive, Mom…"

With so many lost voices echoing in my head, I was unable to think of what I had said to her. It should have been simple enough, to think back to the last time I had talked to a woman I had known for nearly two decades.

As the sun began to bring light to the city skyline, I yawned while pulling my glasses off. My exhausted face was being broadcasted to Tim as he sat, sans cowl, in the Sat-Cave.

A long night. A long week. A long year.

"Well, Ethan will be up soon, after I feed and change him I'll be back on… hopefully Dick will be back from Bristol to entertain him for a while so I can work on Bobo's bio."

Tim nodded, practically unrecognizable with his swollen and bruised face, "Why did he go to the Manor?"

I sat back in my chair with a sigh, "Bruce beckoned him… although I'm not sure why. I figured he would want to talk to you about what happened on the rooftop."

Tim sat back as well, bringing his torso into the camera's view. Although he had removed the cowl, he still wore the black tunic over the Dragon Skin body armor. Even with the morning breaking, I knew it would be hours before he managed to rid himself of the guise completely.

Physically and mentally.

"Where's Cass?" I asked suddenly, "She went offline about thirty minutes ago, thought she would have checked in with me."

He nodded as he probed his left temple, "She did called me, said she went home to take care of Robbie."

I hesitated before asking, "You all right?"

Where Bruce would have shut me down instantly, Tim sighed as his face faltered, "None of us are." Ethan's soft whimper pulled my eyes away from the screen and when I looked back, Tim's face had taken on a solemn look, "Go… take your time."

Screen to black.

By the time I navigated to the crib, Ethan was mumbling to himself and beginning to wiggle. Before I peered over the edge, I took a deep breath, forcing the tragedy of the evening out of my system. With a grin on my face, I looked down at him and said, "Good morning, handsome."

He reached a pair of chubby hands towards me and laughed, "Mahmah!"

I picked him up and sat him up on my lap before kissing the top of his head. As a second thought, I turned him around, kissing each cheek before hugging him as tightly as I could. When he began to push away from me, I released him after saying, "Sorry, monkey, Mommy had a rough night."

"Eee eee eee!" he giggled before plopping back down on my lap.

I had him changed and fed by seven-forty five. After the dreaded hand and face washing, I set him up in his play area, which was cordoned off by mesh walls secured to the floor with screws through the carpet and into the floor. I watched on as he crawled over to his plastic piano, banging loudly on the colorful keys to fill the Clocktower with music.

Surprisingly enough, Frank wasn't at the front door wiggling and whining to go out. I followed the sound of his toenails and grumbles to the master bedroom. "Frank, let's go out," I announced loudly. When he didn't come, I added, "If you peed on my floor, I will forget you are my step brother…"

"I let him out already."

I turned quickly to see the bathroom door was ajar, the light spilling into the bedroom while silhouetting Dick's hunched figure. He had somehow already changed into a pair of sweats and a tee shirt and appeared to be washing his face in the sink.

"Didn't even hear you come in… and I also detect a lack of breakfast smells, did Mattie not make you _very fin pancakes_?"

He shook his head, still bent at the waist as he turned the faucet off before grabbing a hand towel, "No…"

Then he looked at me.

"Jesus, Dick… What happened?"

"It's a long story, Babs," he sighed as he tenderly touched his lower lip, which was swollen, split open and crusted with blood.

I couldn't take my eyes off of the wound or the bruising that surrounded it, "I thought you said it was an easy night, I wouldn't have made you see Bruce if---"

He smirked, then winced before sitting on the edge of the porcelain tub, "It was an easy night, until I saw Bruce."

After wetting the hand towel he had used to dry his face, I moved to sit face to face, gently pressing the cloth to his lip, "What do you mean?"

His eyes turned icy as he drew a ragged breath.

I shook my head, suddenly discerning his silent message, "Bruce… he wouldn't."

"Oh but he would," Dick replied.

Stomaching the sudden urge to drive to Wayne Manor and knock the hell out of the grandfather of my child, I continued, "What happened?"

"Does it matter?" he asked before taking my hand into his, gently lowering it away from his face.

"It matters, Dick."

There was a long pause before Dick replayed the events in the Cave, starting with Bruce's splint free hand and ending with Mattie running away in tears. He admitted that he should have held his tongue but given the events that had transpired that night, he had been unable to keep his emotions in check.

"And even if I had held the higher ground, he would have pushed me to the brink anyway, just so he could have an excuse to hit me."

"You don't know that---."

Dick shook his head, letting his chin fall to his chest, "You didn't see the look in his eyes, Babs… It was like I had killed her… instead of the Joker… who knows, maybe I---."

"Don't, Dick, please… one Bruce is enough."

He nodded as he gently touched his lip, "More than enough… Things have been going so well for so long… I forgot there were reasons why I hate him."

"Dick---" I began.

"No, it's true… But this time, I think I hate him because he's right… Who am I kidding, he's always right," he snapped as he suddenly rose to his feet, "Like he said, I exposed myself, I exposed us all. I've endangered my family, my child."

As he turned to look down at me, I found myself responding, "We've put ourselves and each other in danger for years, Dick, this doesn't change anything."

"Of course it does! It changes things because Helena is dead," he snapped. Dick then looked at me apologetically before continuing, "This changes everything." He proceeded to leave the bathroom, "We have to tell Jim and Maureen."

"Tell them what?" I asked as I followed him into the master bedroom.

"The truth… Tim and I were brainstorming targets the Joker would most likely focus on… and with your Dad gone… We think he'll come after Jim Gordon the second… and you as well."

Dick led us to the den where Ethan was still playing Baby Beethoven. Just as I had that morning, Dick picked Ethan up and held him closely although when the toddler tried to escape, Dick embraced him closer.

It was then that I remembered.

Five days earlier, Huntress had actually called in on a pair of young men who had decided to test drive a new Lexus after hours. I had asked, instinctually, if medical response units were needed and she had laughed lowly, "No, I went easy on them. They're just kids… dumb but still kids. Sometimes, I think the bigger they are, the dumber they get."

"Very true. After all, we both know one that stalks the streets in black and blue."

We had both laughed, enjoying ourselves despite all that was wrong in the world.

^V^

I spent the entire day in my room.

When Mom had Nathan bring up chocolate chip pancakes for me, I had ignored the knocking on the door. Mom had proceeded to check in on me, but after I had declared I was fine she had left me alone. I also skipped on lunch, no doubt melts made from the tuna salad we had picked up at the organic market the day before. Unfortunately, my self-appointed exile had been ill-timed as the only sources of nourishment I had were a bag of sour Skittles, a half of a bottle of Gatorade and a jar of treats for Taffy.

At two-thirty in the afternoon, Mom had dropped by again to say she was taking Nathan to the Preserve for the afternoon. I had barely heard her through the door as my stomach was growling louder than Patrick the Bobcat.

After watching the Jeep disappear down the driveway, I finally unlocked my door and stepped into the hall. Knowing that Dad had most likely holed up in the Cave, where he belonged, it was finally safe to venture downstairs. Not surprisingly, Mom had left me a prepared lunch in the fridge: the tuna melt that needed to be heated alongside a pile of cauliflower and broccoli florets.

Upon setting the sandwich on a porcelain plate, I put it in the oven to heat for a few minutes, passing the time by slowly chewing on the raw vegetables.

All the while replaying the dreadful few minutes that had started the day.

I had tried meditating, katas, reading, sleeping, playing with Taffy, Guitar Hero and even cleaning my closet but nothing would block out the image of my father hitting Dick. But it wasn't the act of violence that had frightened me; it had been the look on my father's face, one that thousands of criminals had cowered under. After replaying the incident dozens times, I had begun to see beyond the scowl on my father's lips and the angry glare in his eyes. In all the turmoil, I had still managed to hear the tail end of their conversation, even after Dick fell to the ground.

Dick had never wanted me to see what Dad was really like.

I had spent my entire life looking up to my father, long before I had been told he was once Batman. Although I had met many great people in my life, he had always remained at the top of my list, followed closely by my mother and Alfred. Every time he laughed at me or Nathan or kissed Mom when no one was looking or even when he came in to check on me while I pretended to sleep proved how much he loved his family.

But after seeing what he was _really like_, I had begun to wonder if was all a lie, him pretending to be the loving, caring man when inside he was still the same as he had always been: the dark knight. Was that the man Alfred had raised, that Dick had grown up with, that my mother had first fallen in love with?

I couldn't believe it.

I wouldn't.

The smell of burnt toast brought me back and I quickly went to save my lunch from the oven. Using the thick, cotton hand towel Alfred always used, I retrieved the hot plat only to see that my sandwich belonged in the burn ward. After throwing it out, along with the remaining bits of cauliflower, I cleaned the plate and dried it. When I returned it to the cupboard, I heard a soft sound form behind me and turned to the doorway.

Nothing.

Not wanting to return to my room empty handed, I made a turkey sandwich with a frown on my face. While I cleaned up after my failed and successful culinary ventures, my cell phone chirped from my pocket and I answered as Gabe Saporta declared, "You're a hot mess and I'm falling for you…"

Terry's ring tone.

"Hey, what's up?" I greeted him while shutting the water off.

"Nothing, wanted to know if you were coming over this afternoon. My sister was going to get strombolis, figured I would see if you wanted one too."

The thought of overstuffed, cheesy goodness made my still unsated stomach growl, "Actually, I was was to call you… I can't."

"What? Why not?"

"I just… I can't… but… can you come here?

He hesitated before asking, "Is something wrong? I mean, I promise… I cleaned my room…so no more mutated Swedish Fish on my desk…"

For the first time that day, a smile formed on my lips. I had been at his house last weekend to hang out and had found a whole score of old, moldy gummy candy beneath his keyboard. "Sure you did."

I heard the rattle of plastic and then, "All right, now I have."

After a quick laugh, I continued, "No it's just… I can't really go anywhere. Mom and Nathan are at the Preserve and Dad's… busy."

"He's not home?"

"No, he is… just… busy."

"Ah… Well, maybe I can get a ride over after we go to the pizzeria. I mean, if it's okay with your dad."

"I don't care if it's okay with him," I muttered and when Terry asked me to repeat myself I simply stated, "It's okay with him. Extra peppers in mine, please."

"You got it."

After returning my phone to my pocket, I heard another sound and turned once more to see nothing. I raced to the entranceway, confused to see the hall empty of anything with a pulse. Rather than head back upstairs to wait for Terry, I opted to make my way to the atrium of the house, keeping a keen eye and ear for any other disturbances. Simply walking through the main corridor quickly evolved to checking each room of the main floor, starting with the billiards room and ending in the study. Even without discovering anything out of sorts, I still couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

Of which changed the second I heard the doorbell echoing through the corridors.

Since I was towards the rear of the house, I ran to the atrium just as Terry sounded the musical chime once more. After unlocking it, both physically and electronically, I pulled the left hand door back and grinned, "Good afternoon, sir."

Terry nodded slightly before offering a brown paper bag emitting heavenly warm aromas of fresh bred, melted cheese and grilled sausage, "Delivery for a… Miss Hermione Granger."

"Why thank you, Mr. Weasley."

It was a joke we used intermittently since Terry and I both suffered tragic hair incidents over the President's Day break from school. I had tried crimping my hair where he had attempted red highlights, both of which were horrific casualties. We had managed to survive by joking with one another on how we now resembled our respective favorite characters at Hogwart's.

After he passed through the door, I took the bag so he could shed his light track jacket and his sneakers. Where I had given up soccer in order to pursue martial arts and gymnastics, Terry had done the opposite and was the left forward of the junior varsity team of the high school, even though he was still in middle school. Although he had arrived in Gotham a short, quiet little boy, Terry had become a tall, active young man.

Whose voice was starting to break.

"I picked up two cream sodas, too… Buy one get one. And you can't beat soda in a glass bottle," he announced.

As I offered him a nod of acknowledgement, I led the way down the hall. When I continued straight towards the stairs, he paused where we should have turned towards the kitchen nook. I waved him onward, "Come on, Ron… Afraid of Snape catching you eating outside the dining hall?"

"Okay," he snickered, "that was too geeky even for me… And I always thought of your Dad as Sirius Black."

I glanced back at him, doing my best to make a fake angry face in place of the real one I felt just beneath the surface, "If he's anyone, he's Snape."

We bantered back in forth as we climbed the three stories to my bedroom as to what character best portrayed our family members and friends. Upon reaching my room, I had Terry pick a movie to go with our late lunch after suggesting "something Italian".

Although I had an attached room off of my bedroom since I moved out of the nursery, I had never really put it to use until that winter. Mom and I spent Christmas break repainting it and furnishing it with a set of leather couches, glass tables in addition to a wall mounted flat screen for movies and video games. Mom had described it as a place for me to have friends hang out but Dad had been convinced it was going to be a lair of sin and constantly monitored our activity.

By the time I had the sodas opened and steaming bread pockets unwrapped, Terry was in the process of working the main menu for Casino. It was a movie of his that I had borrowed permanently since neither of my parents would buy it for me. As he sat down beside me, I raised my orange cream soda and he did the same, "Thanks for lunch."

He smirked before replying, "Fahgettaboudit."

The soda and strombolis were long gone by the time Sam Rothstein caught his wife seeing Lester Diamond at the diner behind his back. Although Terry snickered and mimed punches while James Woods' infamous character was beaten by the goombas, I had to physically keep myself from shuddering.

… _I had always hoped that Mattie could live her life never having to see the real you_…

"You all right?"

"What?" I looked up as Terry touched my upper arm.

"You… You kind of spaced out there for a bit… You're going to miss the best part."

I looked up at the screen to see that the film had progressed to the point where Piscano was complaining to his elderly parents about having to pay for all of his trips back and forth from the casinos. Terry's favorite part was when the old Italian momma yelled at her forty-ish son for swearing after knocking over a grocery can display.

"Sorry, but I am _le tired_," I joked.

"Well then have a nap," Terry also quoted The End of the World animation.

Feigning a friendly smile, I turned to face him on the couch and waited until he did the same before asking, "Have you ever thought about running away?"

"Sure… when I first moved here I had it all planned out that I was going to go to Disney World and work as one of the seven dwarves."

"I'm serious."

He shrugged and reached out to touch my hand, "When I found out how my mom died, I thought about it. I hated my dad so much for lying to me but… when everything settled back down I realized how stupid I had been, thinking that leaving my dad would make him feel the pain I was feeling… but he was already suffering far more than I ever could." He gently traced my fingers, "I take it you had a fight with your Dad."

A silent nod.

"Figured," he paused before saying, "You know, the only reason I fight with my dad is because we're exactly alike. We think the same way, react the same way.. We even sleep the same way, on the left with one arm under the pillow… Same with you and your Dad."

I nearly snapped back that I was nothing like my father but I found myself unable to utter the lie aloud.

The afternoon returned to being nothing more than a boy and a girl watching a movie about the rise and fall of mobsters in Las Vegas. As the credits began rolling, Terry's sister called and he promptly put her on speaker phone so I could say hello. After I assured her that Terry was behaving himself, she said that she would be by to pick him up shortly so they could get dinner ready for their father. At that, I glanced at my watch, shocked to see it was twenty of six.

I might have wasted the entire day in my room, but I had no intentions of doing the same all night.

^V^

Rather than indulging in a shower, a bite to eat or even a nap, I had spent the last hour before patrols at my father's house.

Dana's silver Lexus sedan was absent from the garage as I let myself in through the service entrance. I wondered if she had driven them into town for dinner, but a note on the fridge sated my curiosity: _Jackie - Out with Sylvia and Connie for the night, there's Chicken Pastini in the fridge, xoxoxoxo - Me._

Despite their obvious difference in age and personality, my father had been married to Dana longer than he had been to my mother. Even if she had survived the kidnapping in Haiti all those years ago, I had always figured that my mother would have left him sooner rather than later. At that point, the were only together for my sake rather than for each other, and even then they were hanging onto a thread.

Then again, if she had survived, maybe it would have changed everything…

But he had never looked at my mother the way he looked at Dana. She was young, energetic and always on the move, just as my father had once been. Where my mother loathed the family global escapades, Dana was more than willing to take off at a moment's notice to a different hemisphere. Add into the equation that she was the only reason my father and I didn't kill each other during my teenaged years and she was practically a gift from above.

Especially since she had finally learned how to cook.

Following the scent of garlic and booming surround sound, I made my way through the ground floor, stopping at the open arch entrance across from my old bedroom. Dad was on the overstuffed couch in the entertainment den making use of the speakers we had installed together, seemingly a lifetime ago although it had been less than two months. An empty plate sat on the coffee table before him, mere inches from a pair of propped up, blue socked feet.

"You know, if Dana knew you had your feet on the table, there would be considerably less x's an o's in her notes to you."

Dad visibly jumped in his seat, grabbing his chest before turning to face me, "Damnit, Tim… I'm an old man."

"You're not that old," I replied with a slight smirk before taking a seat beside him on the arm of the couch.

He was quick to reach up and pat me on the back prior to motioning to his plate, "You eat yet? Dana made enough for a small kingdom."

"No, that's okay."

"I insist," he rose to his feet, "If you don't I'll just end up eating it all by myself… Then you'll have to set me up on some sort of exercise regime."

I smirked softly to the back of his head as I followed him to the kitchen. He had always taken care of himself, especially after he had nearly died from being kidnapped and poisoned in Haiti. But in the last few years I had noticed he was finally taking the form of a regular man in his mid-fifties. The spots of gray that had once been contained at his temples had spread throughout his dark hair. The laughter lines he had always joked about were now deep creases. His once fit form seemed softer, slower and more relaxed.

Aside from the gray hair, he was the complete opposite of Bruce.

After we each had a plate of pasta at the nook table and a good thirty minutes of casual conversation, my father set his fork down, "Well, I suppose I've wasted enough of your time… why did you come?"

I could have lied., but like he said, we had wasted enough time.

Dad sat motionless, his eyes unblinking, as I detailed the previous day's events, starting with the note the Joker sent to GCPD and ending with my failed hunt for him following the death of Huntress. When he made no intention to reply, I continued, "We believe that the Joker had her held captive, her wounds strongly suggested several days of being tortured and beaten… Given the fact that---."

"Timothy," he whispered, "I'm so sorry."

… _I'm… sorry…_

I hesitated for a moment before finishing, "She knew who Bruce was… Barbara and Dick, as well. I'm not certain that she knew who Cassandra and I were but it's much safer if we assume that she did."

"And you think she told him?"

_Old Catholics never die, they just get stuck in confession._

A growl crept over my voice, "He tortured her to death. God only knows what drugs he gave her… The only reason he kept her alive that long was to use her as a distraction so he could get away."

Dad leaned back in his chair, putting a hand over his mouth before speaking, "What… is he… he's going to come after you?"

"If he knows who we really are, he's more likely to come after our families before us."

His eyes widened as his hand fell, "What… what should we do? I mean, what can we---."

Shaking my head, I interrupted him, "No, I don't want you to do anything… except… I want you out of the city as soon as possible. Tour Australia, cruise to Alaska, safari in Africa, whatever you can to stay away until we can find him."

"Absolutely not, I'm not going globe trotting while you're here facing off with that lunatic!" he cried out, rising from his chair.

I stood as well, "It's not a matter of debate, it's simple fact. The further you are from Gotham, the safer you and Dana will be."

"And what's to stop him from hunting us down outside of the city?"

"There will be easier targets for him to focus on here."

"What? Bruce's kids? Dick and Barbara's little one? I'd much rather have that clown coming after me and my Winchester than innocent children… Tim, I'm not going to leave you."

Although we fought for another five minutes, I knew it wasn't going to get me anywhere with him. Where Dick resembled Bruce, I held dear to many of my father's attributes as well, namely his stubbornness. Calling it a stalemate, I left just after Dana got home, promising to bring Cass up for dinner the next night.

At least he was giving me another chance to convince him.

Upon trekking to the Cave through the tunnel, I met up with Bruce and reviewed the persons of interest he had for me. Patrols were directed solely on hunting down associates of BoBo, so there was a good chance I'd be trekking back and forth across the city all night. After bloodying my knuckles on a few dozen lowlifes, the only viable information I had collected was that BoBo had been taking any job that came his way in order to pay for his mother's care at a rest resort in Ft. Lauderdale. For the past three years he had been an on-and-off enforcer for a few dealers and mobster wannabes, one name in particular had stood out from the others.

Hades.

At a little after ten, I made my way towards Manchester to pay a late night visit to one of a dirt bag that was a former acquaintance of both BoBo and the diabolical goateed drug dealer. I slowed the Mobile to a crawl while passing an alley alive with activity, taking only a second to visually summarize the scene. A familiar caped and cowled figure was having her way with a group of three young men but another trio was fast approaching from further down the alley.

The fast paced blows and redirection of focus from one opponent to the other is what made Cassandra a natural in taking on a group of combatants but taking on six by yourself was never fun. As I did a u-turn in the middle of the street, I radioed Batgirl, "You have them under control?"

"What are you talking about?" she replied. In the midst of combat, she would generally growl monosyllabic answers as she put the skills David Cain had practically bred into her to use, which made her steady breathing and lengthy reply confusing.

"The three stooges and their group of merry men."

"What? I'm in the Sat-Cave, needed a different grapple gun."

I slammed on the brakes at the alley and leapt from the car, still confused to see Batgirl fighting brilliantly before me while Cassandra claimed to be a good eight miles away in Bryanttown.

"Then who…" I muttered to myself as the group screamed out my name while beginning to flee. I threw two sets of bolos that bound two pairs of scampering scum before sending them to the ground. The remaining two were nearly to the back of the alley, of which opened to the right to a side street. I fired a grapple at one, ensnaring his feet so he fell face first to the wet pavement. The final thug went to make the turn to freedom but too a Batarang to the back of the head before tumbling in a limp heap.

A Batarang I didn't throw.

I turned around slowly to see the being I had mistaken for Batgirl, of which had been difficult to distinguish from the Mobile. Up close, the differences were significantly more distinct. She was a good four inches shorter, nearly flat chested and the lower half of her face was completely visible, broadcasting a triumphant grin.

Grabbing her by the cape bunched behind her neck, I dragged her towards the Mobile despite her kicking and hitting me, "Let me go!"

After opening the hatch, I threw her into the passenger seat, locking her in as I deactivated the car. Once the six men were a pile of weaponless, bounded, moaning bodies, I radioed them in for pick up to Oracle.

"Consider it done. Hey, Cass said you said something about seeing her fighting three stooges and---?"

I made my way to the driver's side of the Mobile before responding, "Forget it. Mistaken identity."

"Then who did you see?"

I removed the low growl in my voice before replying, "Call Bruce. Tell him I'll have his daughter home in twenty minutes."

Before she could reply, I ended the communication, unlocked the car and jumped into my seat. As the hatch sealed, I buckled myself in and turned the car on violently before taking off, not once looking to my right.

Mattie, still wearing her mask, cried out, "I had them I had it all under control and you---."

"You did not have it under control," I snapped.

"No, you just don't want to admit it," she grumbled before crossing her arms over her chest.

I slammed on the brakes, nearly sending her into the dashboard. When she regained her bearings, she instantly sat up and buckled herself to the seat. Once we were in motion again, I asked, "What weapons were they carrying?"

"The pudgy guy had a four inch Dalton switchblade, the baldie had a baseball bat with a big crack in it and the tall guy had a set of brass knuckles."

"And the other three?"

"Well I didn't get to them so---."

"The one in red had a six inch Bargeone switchblade, the one with the goatee had enough muscle to break your jaw in one punch and the last had this," I reached into my utility belt to retrieve a plastic bag from the evidence pouch and handed it over to her.

From the look on her face it was the first time she had a gun in her hands.

Her eyes fell to the black Glock 33 357, it's full magazine clip and the bullet that had been in the chamber sitting safely beside it in the bag.

"I repeat, you did not have it under control."

"How was I supposed to know?"

I growled lowly, "He was moving slower than the other two, taking his time which meant he wasn't worried about getting into a physical fight. I took him out first, tying him up with the bolo with the jock, the two biggest threats."

She went silent, carefully handing back the evidence bag. Once I had secured it, I returned my eyes to the road, ignoring her intently staring up at me. As harsh and unfeeling as I was managing to portray, I couldn't have been more frightened. Because of what we had taught her, she had taken it upon herself to not only make her own costume, but to trek into the city and join the Family business.

Losing Helena had been one thing, but if Mattie had died on my watch…

"What are you going to tell him?" she finally asked as we crossing the Gotham River on the St. James parkway.

I continued to ignore her until we passed through the entrance into the Cave ten minutes later.

Once I had pulled up to a stop on the main platform of the garage, I sighed before pulling back my cowl. Mattie gasped softly, no doubt at the current condition of my face, and then proceeded to do the same. Finally face to face, I found my voice softening, "If I tell him the truth, that I had nothing to do with this… He'll be furious that I was unaware of what was happening. But if I lie and say I was aware, first he'll be angry that I was encouraging you and then he'll be furious when he figures out I was lying."

"So what are you going to tell him?"

"… Nothing."

^V^

I had spent the entire day in the Cave.

A majority of my attention had been focused on the preliminary coroner's report of Helena Bertinelli, of whom had been officially identified through fingerprints. Aside from severe dehydration and malnutrition, common with those being held captive, she had suffered nearly fifty distinct and individual injuries in the course of four days. The most minor had been paper cuts between her toes and fingers where the most severe had been deeply penetrating wounds to each of the upper and lower thoracic quadrants.

All because she was trying to protect us.

Before the reports had come in, Selina had made her first trip to the Cave for the day a little after two-thirty, dressed in jeans, work boots and a fitted green fleece jacket under a rain coat. I had been in such a rush to get down to the Cave after Barbara had called me in the middle of the night that I hadn't bothered with clothes and had settled for a pair of sweats I found in the locker room.

Selina had come up behind me to stand beside the chair before announcing, "Nathan and I are going to the Preserve. Smooth things over with your daughter before I get back."

"Or else?" I replied, my eyes never leaving the criminal records of BoBo's buddies.

"There is no 'or else', Bruce, just do it," she had sighed before turning on her heel and returning to the stairs.

Alone, I had looked down at my hands, the one bore knuckles slightly bruised from hitting Dick. The other had been far more bruised and swollen, a result of taking the splint off combined with angering Selina. Icing it had done only so much, especially since a new set of radiographs showed the slight boxer's fracture had been worsened to the point that it should have been put in a cast.

Good thing Alfred wasn't home.

Not long after she had left, my stomach finally convinced me that a trip upstairs to the kitchen was needed. I had attempted to contact Oracle to have her look into one of BoBo's former acquaintances, a Pete Hornberger, but she had signed off.

Of course. She was on speaking terms with her family.

Remaining barefoot, I slowly climbed the granite steps back to the Manor. Although it would have been a pain to deal with Alfred considering my recent actions, I wouldn't have minded a warm lunch and the endless coffee mug refills he offered. Since he left for Africa with Leslie, Mattie had taken on that task but after what happened… what she saw… what I said…

The sound of a cell ringing and my daughter's sweet voice stopped me in the corridor outside the kitchen, "Hey, what's up?"

She paused, listening to her caller's response. I remained motionless until she continued, using her distraction to step closer to the door, "Actually, I was going to call you… I can't."

It had registered somewhere in my mind that she had originally planned on going to Terry's that afternoon. Unfortunately, it would be some time before she went anywhere.

"I just… I can't… but… can you come here?

Risking it, I had chanced a look into the kitchen to see her standing at the counter preparing lunch for herself, a smile on her lips "Sure you did."

She had laughed at presumably Terry's reply before explaining, "No it's just… I can't really go anywhere. Mom and Nathan are at the Preserve and Dad's… busy."

Mattie's smile had vanished suddenly, "No, he is… just… busy."

Retreating back down the hallway, I had last heard her saying, "I don't care if it's okay with him."

Since the day she had been born, I had never imagined she would be anything but my little girl. In normal families, I had presumed that teenaged rebellions involved getting a navel piercing, going to high school parties and swearing for the sake of it. But we would never be a normal family, of which terrified me as to how Mattie planned to fight back against me.

Over the last few years, even after I had told her about our real lives, she had grown significantly closer to Selina where as a child she had always been closer to me. At present, Nathan often looked to his mother and I couldn't help but wonder if he was going to turn to me as he grew older.

I wasn't sure if I could handle my children abandoning me.

…_I am one of your children, used to be the only family you had…_

Hitting Dick had been an involuntary reflex, one of which I had instantly regretted and not only because Mattie had been there to witness it. The Joker had all of us on edge, and the death of Huntress was the icing on the hellish cake. If we were unable to work together, he was going to separate us and take us out, one by one, something that had taken me a lifetime to figure out.

A lifetime too late.

After evading Mattie's search of the ground floor, no doubt to rule out my presence, I waited for her and Terry to trek upstairs to her bedroom. After agreeing with her and her mother that she was ready for space and privacy with Terry, I was somewhat able to comply on a regular basis. Exception, of course, going to the infrared camera I had planted in both her bedroom and sitting room.

Once their footfall had quieted, I had finally made my way into the kitchen, doing my best not to set it on fire as I warmed up a tuna melt and a cup of coffee. From there, I had trekked upstairs quick to shower and change into clean clothes before returning to my self-exile in the Cave. On my way back down, I had paused at Mattie's door, pressing my ear against it to hear laughter and cinematic gunfire.

By the time I had made it back to the computer chair, Tim was online and I had been quick to open a connection with him, "Timothy."

His face came on screen, the bruising progressing since I had last seen him digitally at the Clocktower meeting after the Joker escaped. The pain he was broadcasting wasn't physical but emotional. He, as well as the others, had grown closer to Helena in the years I had stepped down from the cowl. Where I saw it as a lost ally, they saw it as a lost friend.

After a curt nod, he spoke, "I'm going to talk to my Dad, see if I can convince him to leave the city for a while."

"Good idea."

He hesitated before asking, "What are you going to do? I mean, the kids."

I had yet to decide on the best course of action in protecting my family. Even though we had no conclusive evidence that the Joker knew who we were, there was no other option aside from assuming he did. And if the Joker knew how to do anything, it was how to use and abuse innocent lives in order to hurt his opponents. Trying to ignore the sudden flash of pictures in my mind of Barbara, bare and bleeding, I replied, "There's not much left of the school year. I would prefer they finish at home with tutors but I doubt Selina

would be willing. Worse case, they finish the year normally after some upgrades to their personal security as well as that of the school."

"Has Dick or Barbara said anything? I know Jim Jr., Mo and the baby are in Chicago for like two weeks…"

"No," I had snapped, "They haven't said anything."

Tim had waited a beat, touching his nose gently, "I'm considering telling Will the truth. No doubt he already knows but…"

"And what would suggest he already knows? Did Dick tell him?"

His face had transformed instantly from placid to furious, "Damnit, Bruce! We're in the middle of this as much as you are… all of our families are at stake, not just yours."

"I'm aware of that, but this wouldn't have been a concern---."

"What, if Huntress hadn't put it all together? That she, just like Bane and Ra's and a whole score of others, didn't figure out who you were?"

I had remained silent, knowing if I had opened my mouth, what would have come out would have made matters worse.

After a sigh, Tim had continued, "I'm sorry, I just… I'm exhausted, I frustrated… I even snapped at Cass this morning when she wanted to put aloe on my face."

"Are you suicidal?" I had asked, trying to lighten the mood.

He forced a smirk, winced and replied, "Apparently. Listen… I'll drop by after I talk to my dad and Dana… Dick said something about taking patrols for me so I can focus on getting more information on Bobo… If you can get a list of any of his former associates I should look into---."

"Already done," I cut him off, "He actually worked with Hades before, which is why your description of him sparked a memory."

"At least one of us can keep things straight… Feel like I'm losing my grasp of things."

"It's the Joker," I offered before signing out, "That's what he wants you to think."

Aside from when Tim dropped in quick before heading out for patrols, my next human interaction was when Selina came home, asking if I had talked with Mattie yet.

I had glanced at my wristwatch, surprised to see it was just after eight. In the time that had lapsed since I had spied on my daughter, I had managed to locate the current whereabouts and activities of six of the associates I wanted Tim to hunt down as well as getting out some of my own frustration in the gym. Even with two busted hands, I had managed to put in enough of a workout to require a second shower.

After telling her that Terry had come over for the afternoon, I had explained that I planned on talking to her before bed. She had growled an incomprehensible threat before saying she was going upstairs to bathe Nathan and put him to bed. I had promised I would be up to tuck him in before talking to Mattie but she made no signal that she had heard me.

In the end, it had only been a partial lie.

As Barbara had called to inform me that Tim was escorting my daughter home, Selina had come running down the stairs, calling out that Mattie was gone and wasn't at any of her friends' houses. I had already been on my feet so when I had told her not to worry with no further explanation, she could have easily run up to me and hit me in the face.

After all, physical violence within the Family had been the theme for the day.

Instead, she paused before me, her face as red as her eyes, "If you're not worrying than you know where she is."

I nodded.

Then she slapped me.

"Where the hell is she?!"

"Tim's bringing her home."

"Bringing her… where was she?"

When I hadn't replied, she made a grab from my broken hand, of which I had finally splinted once more. I had latched onto her arm with my better hand and pulled her close to me. Her eyes had darted to mine, and instead of fury or premeditated murder brewing in them, I saw nothing but fear and anxiety.

After I had explained to her what had happened, the fear dissimilated but her anxiety had remained. Selina had drawn a deep breath before finally responding, "This is your fault."

"Yes, dear."

She had tried to hide the smirk that teased her lips by turning away from me, "And you can't yell at her, because it's your fault. Not hers. Or Tim's."

"Yes, dear."

The seriousness returned to her face before she had ended with, "And we're not okay."

I had nodded in place of repeating myself.

The Mobile had roared into the Cave thirty-eight minutes later, nearly twice as long as what Barbara had relayed to me. Rather than standing in the garage, ready to take charge of my daughter, I was on the main terrace, staring at a brass plaque.

There was only one set of footsteps on the stone floor, soft, slow and deliberately steady, of which were drowned out as the Mobile ignited and departed. The form approached me, pausing three times before finally coming to stand behind me and to the right. Her reflection in the glass case before me showed her wearing a dark guise with purple accents, a cowl pulled back to hang between her slender shoulders. Her hair was tightly braided, but had small tufts loosened and sticking out.

My little girl. All grown up.

"I never told you how Jason died."

Her reflection shook its head slightly.

"I thought… because he was so bold that he would have been more than capable of being Robin, after he learned control and discipline. But no matter what I did, he never seemed to accept it… To conform. I had mistaken it for courage at the time when really it had been arrogance. Defiance. He wasn't ready… but… I gave him the costume anyway."

Mattie stepped forward until she stood beside me as I continued, "He found out that the mother had known had adopted him and he left to track down his real mother… As fate would have it, she was being blackmailed by the Joker and when Jason met her and told her who he really was… She handed him over to the Joker as a means of putting an end to her extortion."

"I know he killed Jason…" she finally spoke.

"You don't know anything," I finally turned, kneeling in front of her so we were eye to eye, "The Joker didn't just kill him. He beat him within an inch of his life with a crowbar and left Jason and his mother in a building that exploded. He died at the hands of the Joker because I failed him. I failed him as a mentor and I failed him as a…"

"A father," she finished as tears began rolling over her cheeks.

I reached up with my bare hand and wiped her face. I forced my voice to be even as I explained, "I lost one child to him, Mattie, I will not lose another. After we… After they catch him… we'll get you back in training… maybe then you can… but not until…"

It wasn't until she reached up and wiped my face that I realized I was crying as well.

^V^


	9. Now And Then: IX

Title: Now And Then: IX

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language, adult situations and violence.

Summary: The Family must not only deal with the loss of Huntress and Mattie's actions, but another direct hit from the Joker.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Some references made to Lucky Number Slevin in the last POV.

A/N 2: I seem to be writing a great deal of apologies in my Author's Notes of late when it is my evil laptop and hectic lifestyle that is to blame for my intermittent writing…

^V^

My plan had been perfect. Emphasis on had.

After a day of over reacting about my father's fight with Dick, I sequestered myself in my bedroom and waited to hear three things before taking further action. First, to hear my brother's door close from down the hall, which required perfect silence on my part and a keenly trained ear. Then, my mother walking by my bedroom, muttering and cursing under her breath while pledging revenge upon her husband. Lastly, my father's footsteps pausing at my door, then to the master bedroom before retreating to the stairs.

The scent of a freshly brewing pot of coffee, timed to start percolating when I had expected him to surface, would lure him to the kitchen. A prepared plate of leftovers in the fridge would hopefully keep him there for at least fifteen minutes. Still counting on luck, it would be just enough time for me to race down to the ground floor, through the study, down into the Cave before bee lining through the secret path between Wayne and Drake Manors.

Tim had shown it to me not long after I had found out the truth. He had said that while most boys his age had been loitering in town and causing trouble on the hill behind the high school, he had been trekking in the dark caverns of Bristol with a flashlight, singing to himself to keep the heebie jeebies at bay.

From there, it had been a GPS guided trip to town on one of the Bat cycles. Summers spent with a boy as a best friend had done wonders for my dirt bike riding skills, and the cycle wasn't that much different save for the glossy black detailing and counter-measure devices. It had been one of the cycles in the shop, with most of the gadgetry stripped in order to be used its newer, faster counterparts, including the tracking device, thus leaving me invisible to everyone.

My first act as a crime fighter happened just as I approached the on-ramp for St. James, less than a mile out of the city limits. There were two boys spray painting obscenities on a sign welcoming motorists to Gotham City. I decelerated long enough to through a bolo, wrapping the two together, causing them to spray paint each other's faces.

In the hour that lapsed from the second I passed into the city limits to when I left them in the Batmobile, I had taken down eleven criminals. Three-bits rather than two-bits, as Dick defined them, who were lowlifes with no ambition and took advantage of tourists and people unaware of their surroundings. Pick pocketers, purse snatchers and street side scam artists for the most part. The grand finale had been taking on the three men antagonizing their prey in a dark alley.

Bad things happened in dark alleys.

My first official encounter with Batman was quickly followed by my first official ride in the Batmobile and my first official Bat-glare and accompanying Bat-lecture. Where I had spent over a year fantasizing about racing across rooftops at his side, Batman had growled, snarled and snapped, unwilling to hear my explanations. We had nearly reached the Cave's secluded entrance when he pulled over and killed the engine. I had waited silently, belted in the passenger seat, with my eyes on my gloved hands fidgeting on my lap.

A sigh had grabbed my attention and my eyes had turned to my left just as Tim had pulled back his cowl. I had watched on as he ran both of his hands through his short hair before placing them on the steering wheel.

Then, "Mattie, do you know why you're important to this family?" When I didn't reply, he had continued, "It's more than the fact that you're the first born Wayne child in four decades… Or that you're the product of two natural born enemies that can't seem to live apart from one another for more than eighteen minutes… Or even that you're you," he had looked to me, "A beautiful, smart girl with a penchant for horses and ass-kicking."

I had nearly smiled until I realized he had been trying to lighten the mood. After clearing my throat, I had asked, "Then why?"

"I always thought… you were the reason he… that he remembered. He was with you, holding you, in your nursery and something hit the right nerve at the right time. I mean, he had bits and pieces but that's when it all came flooding back. If you hadn't been born, who knows what would have happened…"

My eyes looked away for a moment and when they had found their way back to Tim, he had already pulled the cowl back over his face and hit the ignition.

It wasn't the first time I had seen his eyes glassy and heavy with worry, but it had still put me on edge.

Ten minutes later, I had seen the same glassy and worried look in my father's eyes, but since it had only been the second time I had seen him in such a state in my life, I was pushed over the edge.

The morning after Nathan had been born, Alfred had taken me back down to the hospital to see my parents and my new baby brother, albeit through the sanitized plastic covering of his incubator bed. After Alfred and I had stopped in at the gift shop to buy fresh flowers for Mom, we had made the ride up to the fourth floor post-operative ward in an elevator full of doctors playing with their respected gadgetry. At the time, I had thought of another reason why I wanted to be a doctor: an iPhone.

As Alfred had stopped at the nurse's station to sign the visitor's log, I walked as quickly as possible to my mother's room, hiding my smiling face behind a bouquet of lilies. Since the door had been slightly ajar, I had simply pushed it open just enough for me to pass through. I had expected to see my father sitting in the same padded chair he had been in the night before and my mother propped up slightly in bed, both tired but happy to see me.

My father had been sitting the same padded chair but my mother wasn't propped up, tired and happy as she had been fast asleep. He had been awake, bent at the waist and face down on the empty bit of mattress beside my mother's hip. His back had been shaking and although muffled, I had still been able to hear his staggered and shallow breathing. Sobbing.

Even years later, I still remembered how frightened I had been, seeing my father emotionally broken. Excluding Alfred, he had been the only member of my family that I had thought too strong to lose control. Every asthma attack I had endured with Dad, every stumble on the soccer field, when Uncle Jim had died, he remained calm and collected.

It was when the lives of his family members were in peril, I rationalized, that he faltered.

Mom.

Nathan.

Me.

My eyes were unable to leave my father's face, more specifically the tears that slowly made their way over his stubbled cheeks. He was speaking to me, something about when it was safe, I would be able to resume training but I had a hard time hearing him. My mind still running wild, I somehow managed to reach up to touch his face, just as he had done to me a moment earlier.

Suddenly, I whispered, "Am I going to be grounded?"

His lip twitched for a moment, "Yes."

"Seriously?" I laughed, despite the fact that we were both still shedding tears.

Dad rose, turning away from me in order to rub a hand over his damp face, "For your safety… and as punishment."

I followed him as he strode towards the costume vault, nearly jogging to keep with his long strides. After we passed into the indestructible vault, I waited for him to begin his interrogation. Watching as he adjusted a few batarangs and instruments that hung from the wall, I felt my pulse begin to throb as my tongue turned into a dry slug.

He was my father, I had nothing to fear.

He was the Batman first, though…

Before Dad said anything, I decided it would be best to just tell him the truth, figuring it would not only show my bravery but my maturity as well. Just like Cass had taught me, taking the first move was always the best move.

"It was the first time I left, I swear, I---."

Without turning to me, he spoke softly, "You must not be including all of the times you practiced sneaking in and out of the house, then."

Speechless was an understatement.

"Do you honestly think I wouldn't know about that?" still with his eyes diverted.

When my voice managed to break through, it didn't declare my surprise or beg for forgiveness, but rather it asked, "Why didn't you stop me?" His lack of a reply suggested that mine wasn't the only tongue that was being held captive. After taking two steps forward, I continued, "If you thought it was so dangerous, why didn't you stop me earlier?"

Finally, he turned to look down at me, his expression completely devoid of emotion as he answered me, "I wanted to see how far you would go. How far you would push your boundaries…"

"I don't have any boundaries," I blurted out, instantly regretting doing so.

… _I had always hoped Mattie would be able to live her life never having to see the real you…_

His brow furrowed suddenly and he opened his mouth, but shut it without uttering a word. After relaxing his face, Dad responded with, "We all have boundaries, limitations---."

Again, the words fell out of my mouth without permission of my brain, as if they I subconsciously wanted to push, "It's family tradition to ignore them, isn't it?"

Only his left eyebrow jumped, "One that doesn't need to be continued. Studying what went on before you Mattie was to encourage you not to make the same mistakes, the same errors that myself and Dick and everyone else endured, not to repeat them word for word." Somehow, I managed to stay quiet, giving him ample time to proceed, "You assumed I didn't know about your leaving, which was your first and biggest mistake."

"I assumed leaving would be the biggest mistake---."

He interrupted me curtly, "Never assume anything."

My control over my words faltered, "So this is the real you."

Both eyebrows dropped, narrowing his eyes in a way I had never seen before.

No, I had seen it before.

At the time, I had only known that my parents had been screaming at one another in their bedroom after weeks of my father neglecting his parental responsibilities. After changing into my pajamas, I had gone to see if they would read to me n their bedroom instead of mine. My young blue eyes had found them facing one another while growling and yelling back and forth. Later, reading through my father's personal logs about how he was preparing to step down from the cowl, I had understood why my mother had been so furious and my father had been on the defense.

The look on his face, before he had spotted me in my purple nightgown hugging my stuffed pony, was forever emblazoned in my memory.

It was he only time I had seen him angry and I had hoped it would have been the last.

Too bad.

The volume of his voice softened, but the tone did not, "Dick was wrong. You will live your life without ever seeing the real me, Mattie, for which I am thankful. The anger and violence I once thrived on will only do harm, to myself… and my family."

I found my voice again, quiet under the hum of the lights above us, "You seemed plenty angry this morning."

Dad faced away once more, looking at a rack bearing ten cowls, ready for battle, "It wasn't anger that I felt this morning, Mattie… It was fear, something I've never learned to express rationally... Fear of hurting your mother has lead me to lie to her time and time again. Fear of failure driving me out of an existence that I wasn't ready to surrender," he paused until his eyes were looking down on me, "Fear of harm coming to you and your brother in any form…"

I decided to say the one he failed to mention, "Fear that we're not going to find him, that he's going to find us."

^V^

All's well that ends well.

That morning, I had woken to the sound of my daughter and husband screaming at one another. After a brief physical encounter, he had retreated to his sanctuary to brood and be miserable in solitude, leaving me to deal with the filial mess he had made. It had been unfortunately too easy considering Mattie had locked herself in her room for the day and Nathan wanted nothing more than to have a grand adventure at the Preserve.

Thus giving Bruce the entire day to formulate and carry out proper apologies to his eldest son and daughter.

Blocking out the horrific events from the night before and trying not to think about what was ahead, I gave my mind and body over to an afternoon with Nathan. Less than desirable April weather had us inside for most of the afternoon, working through the science activity center attractions before touring the medical building to check in on a few of the big cats we had on the mend.

A similar facility in the Adirondacks had to separate two of their Fisher cats that had begun a civil war. We had gladly offered one of our single turnouts to the younger male, Oskar, once his stitches were removed. Until then he was miserable and sulking in the small medicine paddock attached to his indoor pen. Nathan loved to watch him stalk about and sang the Oscar Mayer song in tempo with the cat's stride.

Clever boy.

After lunch with a few staff members in the cafeteria, we headed back towards Gotham, getting stuck in traffic on the Taconic thanks to a four car accident blocking the southbound lanes. To keep my still energetic son entertained, I pulled off at a Park and Ride and joined him the backseat to watch a DVD on the drop down screen. He had been torn between watching UP and a Spiderman movie. I suggested Spiderman simply because I wasn't too keen on watching a movie with dogs barking incessantly, that and the beginning of UP always brought tears to my eyes.

Kid's movie my ass.

As a masked Peter Parker swooped in to save Mary Jane for the millionth time, the road was cleared and Nathan was starting to drift off. Leaving the movie to finish playing out the last hour, I got back in the driver's seat and merged back onto the parkway. Arriving home, father and daughter were still in seclusion and seemingly no closer to resolving their current conflict.

Without the culinary gift of my daughter, Nathan and I settled on a simple dinner of grilled ham and cheese, tomato soup and celery sticks with peanut butter and raisins. Not exactly worthy of the fine dishware we used but it seemed to hit the spot well enough. Nathan had started to snicker halfway through the meal, making his raisin ants march off of the celery logs and into his mouth as he rested his chin on the table. When I told him he was a silly goose, he had looked up and defended, "Geese don't eat raisins… they eat real bugs."

"That they do."

He finished off the last bug and added, "Just like bats."

I paused before responding, "They do as well."

After cleaning up, I had sent him upstairs to pick out pajamas and to investigate the whereabouts of his sister so that I could go down and confront Bruce one last time before I filleted him. He had growled about how Terry had dropped by for the afternoon and that he intended to talk to her before bed.

One more hour, that was all I had intended on giving him.

An overshot.

By the time I made it to the third floor, Nathan wasn't bouncing about in his room as I had expected but instead he was on his hands and knees in Mattie's room looking under her bed. When I had asked what he was doing he had looked over his shoulder at me, "Investigating…"

"What?"

"Mattie's gone."

The carefree day I had spent with my son was forgotten as the only thing my mind could think of was that my daughter was missing.

That and the world's greatest detectives had deduced that the Joker knew who they really were.

In a numb trance, I had dialed all of Mattie's friends asking if she was there and hanging up the second they responded in the negative. After telling Nathan to go to his room and find a hiding place for an impromptu game of hide and seek, I had raced back downstairs, doing my best to keep my heart from bursting from my chest.

"Mattie's missing!" I had called out long before I spotted him, still in the computer bay, "She's not at anyone's house… her cell phone is off and…"

Rather than jump to his feet, worry washing over his features, Bruce had slowly risen from the chair and nodded, "There's nothing to worry about. She's safe…"

After learning what my daughter had done, I had managed a small sigh of relief. That was after I had slapped Bruce in the face threatened and growled at him, leaving my words looming in the dark air, "And we are not okay."

Once I had returned to my son, I had done my best to convince him that Mattie was working on some last minute homework in her father's study. He was quick to ask if he could finish his investigation but I had countered with, "I think you have the mystery of the molars to solve, first."

Teeth brushed, I had waited until he was snuggled with his favorite Giants blanket and under the watchful guard of his stuffed German Shepherd before making the final trip back to the Cave for the foreseeable future. Unlike my previous visits, Bruce was not alone in the computer bay, lost in the hideous world of murdering clowns and fallen vigilantes, but exiting the costume vault with Mattie wearing one of his housecoats. Had the last few days been less traumatic, I would have laughed at how the terry cloth dragging on the ground behind her was like a cape.

If only…

I cleared my throat, drawing a pair of matching blue eyes in my direction. Mattie paused and looked to her father, waiting for his slight nod before walking over to me.

"I'm sorry," she started.

I shook my head before doing my best to look stern with her, "Don't you ever do that again..."

"I promise," she offered a sad smile before moving in to hug me.

I leaned over and whispered in her ear, "And if you do, don't forget to invite me." After releasing her, I looked to Bruce, "Nathan's waiting for you upstairs."

Eyes never leaving my face, he nodded curtly before walking by us.

Alone, I finally asked, "Well?"

"Well what?" she returned with, pulling the sash tighter around her waist.

"Let's see it," I nodded towards the costume vault.

She glanced over her shoulder at the darkened chamber before looking back to me, "Dad said you'd ask to see my costume… he locked it in the safe."

Not surprised, I began walking towards the vault, "Please, child, there's nothing your father can hide from me. Literally and figuratively."

Aside from three vaults in the manor, one for each floor, Bruce had two more in the Cave. One was in the costume vault and the fifth was rumored to be somewhere near a hundred and eighty feet down into the darkness. Had I been ambitious enough, I would have gone down there and cracked that one, too.

The door to the costume vault itself was just a modernized version of the one to the safe that rested within. Both featured twenty bolts with chain reacting relockers in the eight inch thick torch proof stainless steel doors but the entranceway was also equipped with biometric security measures. And since he had left that door open, I didn't need Bruce's fingers or retinas to get in.

He would have been less subtle had he laid out a welcome mat and a line of breadcrumbs.

"I figured I shouldn't do a suit made of all black… that mixing yours and Dad's would make more sense," Mattie explained six minutes later as I examined the folded pieces of her uniform. Although black was a predominant color, swatches of purple leather were sewn over the heavier Kevlar lined material of the body tunic, sleeves and leggings. The boots, cape and utility belt appeared to be a standard pair from the Bat-wardrobe but the gloves were unit in that they did not have the three metal blades scalloping off of the forearm.

The cowl appeared to be exactly the same as mine save for it was black with only purple accents on the brow and over the cheeks, nearly in the fashion of tiger stripes.

Despite the fact that I was speechless with my heart throbbing in my chest, I finally managed to comment, "Too bad you can't submit this for your sewing project for home ec."

She had smirked nervously, "Yeah, this turned out way better than the pajama set I had to make."

Once we had secured the vault, we made our way to the manor in silence. I would have turned the lights out but no doubt Bruce would be heading back down in order to avoid me. When Mattie and I paused at her bedroom door, she spoke softly, "I know I should have told someone… but I knew if I did… I'd never get the chance to… you know."

"I know. But that still doesn't make what you did okay."

"I know," she repeated back to me, "I just… I wanted to help..."

"I know, kiddo."

Two kids down, one to go.

The master bedroom doors were closed and I expected the room to be empty upon opening them. The overhead light was off but the bedside and end table lamps glowed bright enough to show Bruce sitting on the couch by the bay window. As expected, he didn't turn around, not even acknowledging me until I was sitting beside him.

He spoke, barely above a whisper, "Her first night… not even an hour on the streets and she took out thirteen criminals."

"That's our girl," I replied softly.

He waited a minute before speaking again, "My first night… my first hour… I was stabbed, shot, arrested… Had to flip the police car in order to escape… Barely made it home… crashed my car into the manor… Nearly bled to death before Alfred found me in the study."

Turning to face him on the couch, I brought my legs up underneath me, not sure if another light-hearted comment would make matters better or worse. Instead, I opted for action rather than words, reaching over a setting a hand on his shoulder.

Bruce cleared his throat, "Alfred always said I was brought into this… that life through tragedy. That because my parents were murdered rather than dying in an accident or of old age even, that I was forced to sacrifice my future in order to satisfy my need for justice… same with Dick and even Cassandra…" he paused before finally looking up at me. The same somber look he had given me in the Cave the night the Joker had attacked the planetarium.

… _I'm broken…_

"I wanted her to have a normal life… I didn't want her to suffer as we did… I should have never told her…"

"It was only a matter of time until she would have found out on---."

He shrugged my hand off of his shoulder before getting to his feet, walking towards the window before replying, "---her own, yes, I know… But looking back, I think that telling her was worse… inviting her into that lifestyle without thinking of the consequences…"

"You never do anything without thinking every possible outcome to death, Bruce," I commented, still sitting.

He turned to face me, but rather than anger brewing in his eyes, I saw nothing but fear, "No… I didn't invite her in… Alfred's right, I was brought into this life but she… she was born into it," his voice nearly broke with emotion as he continued, "She never even had a chance because of who I was… who we were."

That brought me to my feet, my arms around his neck and my lips on cheek.

"Normal lives are overrated," I whispered in his ear before pressing my face against his chest, "I think we both are living proof to that."

"Overrated, but safe," he responded in a quiet whisper.

A smile crossed my lips, "Well, it's a good thing she can take care of herself, isn't it?"

He grunted. Finally.

I released him, my hands traveling down the front of his torso before falling to my sides, "Almost as well as I can."

The tiniest half-smirk flashed for before he replied, "I'm fairly certain I could take you. I'm over two hundred pounds, you're almost half---"

"I _am _half that."

"No, you're---."

"Bruce."

"… You're right, you are half that."

^V^

It had to be a dream.

Why else would Helena Bertinelli be talking to me? And why else would I be talking back?

A darkened city skyline surrounded us for miles, the usually brightly lit buildings seemingly without power and the streets dozens of stories below vacant and lifeless. The kind of dark I had only found in the deepest corners of the worlds. Without being able to recognize the buildings or streets below, I was unable to determine my position in the city, hindered further by no response from Oracle, Batgirl and Nightwing.

But there was someone…

"It's not your fault, kid," Huntress smiled at me, appearing in full costume without a scratch on her.

"I should have looked for you," I replied instinctively. My voice was soft, light, free of any gravel.

"It's my fault, I should have watched my back, kept in touch, worked with the team… The old man always told me I was reckless, that's why he never accepted me."

I shook my head violently, "I won't let you bear this burden… it's my---."

"Listen to me, kid, one Batman is enough."

"I'm Batman," I shot back, but my words lacked any conviction.

A smile crept over her lips as she reached a hand out, tussling the thick black hair on my scalp, "Are you sure?"

My eyes fell to my chest, locking on a gold R emblazoned on a red tunic. My hands did not bear the razor scalloped gauntlets but soft green gloves. Red leggings ended in green cloven toed boots as a black and yellow cape swirled about my shoulders.

She was right, I wasn't Batman.

As her hand settled on my shoulder, Huntress continued, "Someday, I'm sure you'll be able to fill his boots, kid, someday…"

I shoved her hand away, glaring up at the grin on her face, "I'm Batman."

Huntress cocked her head, letting a wave of dark hair fall from her shoulders, "You might want to be careful yelling that… never know who's listening…"

Her gaze shifted from my face for just a moment, moving to glance at something behind my left shoulder. Not a fraction of a second later, I felt a tap on my left collar bone and instinct had me duck before spinning around to face this unknown being, ready for anything.

Except for there was no one.

I stood fully before looking back towards Huntress, my eyes targeting in on a broad smile.

On a pasty white face.

"Peekaboo, I see you," the Joker grinned.

I wanted to blame it on some unknown force field or a sudden bout of tetanus, but deep down I knew it was pure fear that paralyzed me.

"Told you, kid," Huntress sighed as she approached us, "You never know who is listening…"

"Oh, it's nothing I haven't heard before," the Joker snickered as he reached over and smacked Huntress on the behind, "But it is one of my favorite tunes… say it again, Boy Blunder, loud and proud!"

"… I'm Batman."

"Tsk tsk tsk… I've heard corpses sound more convincing,… One more time," purple and white flashed before my eyes as he threw a hand out and smacked me under the chin, raising my head up, "Chin up, project it with your diaphragm… say it like you mean it!"

"I'm Batman!" I growled, swinging a green gloved fist at his smiling face.

He ducked, "Better, once more, loud as you can."

Free from my frozen stance, I lunged at him, wrapping my hands around his throat, my gloves no longer green but glistening black, "I'm Batman!!"

But it wasn't his throat anymore, it was Helena's. Her costume was tattered and her body was slick with blood, The flesh beneath my fingers was cold and without the slightest pulse of life. Her brown eyes found mine for a brief second before her final breath passed through her lips, "… I'm sorry."

I sat up so quickly that I fell off of the couch, nearly crashing into the glass coffee table.

Even though I had told myself from the beginning that it had been a dream, I found myself covered in a cold sweat, my pulse throbbing in my temples and my breath coming in short pants. Without making an attempt to bring my vitals back within normal range, I rose to my feet, shaking my head. Vision clear, I looked over my left shoulder to the wall clock hanging between matted and framed posters for Dr. No and Layer Cake. I had returned from the Sat-Cave shortly after eight in the morning, forced myself to eat a quick breakfast of a liter of water, two mangos and a six inch pastrami sub from the day before.

By eight-thirty I had passed out on the couch.

Wide awake and it was only nine-forty-five.

Doing my best to shake the image of Helena's dead face from my mind, I walked barefoot to the kitchen, surprised to see it tidied up with a fresh plate of croissants and tarts set out on the countertop next to a gurgling coffee machine. A blue Post-It sat just under the edge of an empty Snoopy mug: _Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, except for second breakfast. -C_

I poured Snoopy full to the brim, sipped half of it down in between bites of a raspberry tart. By the time I needed a refill, the phone hanging next to the fridge sounded and I made it by the fourth ring, "Yes?"

"I cleaned and baked, I want breakfast in bed."

Click.

It took a minute to unearth a wooden serving tray from the cupboard over the stove and another two minutes to locate an appropriate mug: Woodstock. After topping myself off and pouring hers with two spoonfuls of Splenda, I put the pastry plate on the tray and proceeded to make my way upstairs.

Despite the number of windows, the room was only faintly lit through the heavy drapes. Even still, I was able to see Cass laying under the covers, Robbie's flat face resting in the canyon between her pillows and mine. At the sound of the door opening, the Boxer lifted his head, yawned and then plopped back into down heaven.

Unlike our canine child, Cass sat up at the first sight of me, pulling back the blankets so that I could join her. After setting the tray down over her thighs, I shook my head, "Already ate. Twice."

"That's okay, I won't tell," she smiled up at me.

Rather than give in, I walked around the end of the bed to her side and leaned over to kiss her brow, "Sorry… I want to get to the Manor, talk to Bruce about last night."

"Ah, my doppleganger."

"Your protégé," I corrected her.

"Good enough for you to mistake her for me," her smirk faded before she took a bite of croissant.

Instinct and suspicion took over for a moment, an inopportune moment, and I stood upright, "You knew, didn't you?"

Cass shook her head, licking her lips before responding, "Of course I didn't… Wouldn't let her go anywhere alone… not for the first time."

"You've been pushing her, asking more of her for weeks… Why?"

Cass set the croissant down and moved the tray to the bedside table before pushing back the covers, "Because she's ready for it."

I waited until she was on her feet as well before continuing, "I wasn't ready when you started training me that hard and I had spent years behind the mask. You were asked to push me to prepare me, don't tell me that's not what you did with Matt---."

My next conscious thought was that I was suddenly pressed face first against the antique armoire Barbara had given us as a housewarming gift. One arm was numb and limp at my side and the other was pulled back, contorted to the point of near dislocation. Thin fingers had my trachea pinched while the matching hand grasped my arm, nails digging deep into the flesh. Somehow, she slammed into the back of my knee and my left kidney simultaneously without any yielding on the hold on my throat and arm.

Then blackness after she slammed my head into the solid oak door.

"Damnit, Cass," I spun around to strike back but naturally she was already out of reach, heading to the bathroom. I reached it just to have the door slammed in my face.

No wonder Bruce lived alone for so long.

"Cass, I'm sorry…" I told the white door, "I just… everything is coming too fast. We've been after him for four months and the body count keeps rising… and we're no where near finding him… now Helena…"

Silence.

"Cass, please…"

The door flew back suddenly and she asked, "Do I have to knock more sense into you?"

It would have put a smile on my face.

Had there not been tears on hers.

Although she had just wrapped an arm around my neck a moment earlier in order to choke me, this time she was seeking comfort. Hot tears dripped from her cheeks, saturating my chest as she did her best to bury her face from reality.

She didn't make a sound.

"I didn't mean to be a jerk…" I offered as I snaked my arms around her torso.

She shook her head, still without a word.

"No, you're right, I've been an ass…"

Cass withdrew slightly in order to look up at me, "It's not that… It's my fault."

Helena's words from my dream flashed in my mind and I found myself uttering them aloud, "It's not your fault."

Without warning, she pushed away from me in order to retreat back into the bathroom, this time leaving the door open so that I could follow her. I waited for her to sit on the edge of the tub before joining her, hesitating before settling an arm around her shoulders. For as long as I had known her, Cassandra had been one of the very few people in my life that was never phased by anything. Naturally, Bruce, Alfred and J'onn J'onzz were also on the list.

Seeing her so emotionally unstable was frightening, far more than the Joker's taunts, both real and imagined.

Once she had regained control of her breathing, Cass spoke without looking at me, "I was the last to see her… Barbara figured it out. Last time she was on radar. There was a scream for help… she left to take care of it… I came to the Clocktower. Could have helped her… Should have…"

Cass had reverted back to her abbreviated verbalisms. Not good.

"Helena spent years battling on her own… there was no reason to suspect that she wouldn't be able to handle herself… and who's to say that was when he took her? There's no way of knowing---."

Her eyes shot to mine, anger fluttering briefly, "I knew. Something not right. I knew…"

"Do I need to knock some sense into you?" I managed a sad smile.

"Tim…"

I shook my head, "No, you've been after my case for years, telling me I can't blame myself for things that are out of my control, now it's time you had a taste of your own medicine."

She was quiet for a moment before responding, "Fine, Helena was out of my control but… Mattie wasn't."

I suddenly flashed back to the night before, seeing Mattie taking on three men, twice her size, all the while fighting back a smile. Leaning forward, I kissed her brow before setting my chin on her head, "Something tells me that she _is _beyond our control…"

^V^

There was a distinct possibility that the Joker knew who Bruce and Dick were, if not Tim and Cassandra as well.

"Up, up, up, up…. Weeee, down…."

The giggles of toddler and father filled the kitchen.

Even if he didn't, I was still the daughter of Commissioner James Gordon… I had the scars to prove it.

"Up, up, up, up…"

"Weeee, dow."

Helena Bertinelli had been tortured to death at the hands of the pasty faced madman.

"Up, up…" Dick started.

Ethan finished, "Uh, uh…. Weeee dow."

Mattie had snuck into the city, beneath all of our radar.

"Uh, uh, uh, uh… weeeee, dow."

"Good job, mister, thirsty work… let's finish off our Mott's for Tots.

I watched on as Dick sat beside Ethan's high chair, holding up a toddlerized juice box to our son's pink lips. Ethan opened wide before chomping down on the straw, taking four hungry gulps before letting go and turning his focus back to the game he had just been playing. As he said "uh" he tapped Dick's arm, moving as high as he could reach before letting it slide back down while he declared, "weeeee, dow."

The happy looks on their faces were entrancing.

"Babs?"

"What?"

"I asked if you could get me another yogurt, I think I can con him into eating some more."

Nodding, I about faced from the small kitchen table before retrieving a vanilla yogurt from the fridge, "Did he finish his turkey?"

Dick thanked me for the yogurt before answering, "Most of it, the rest he decided to feed to Frank."

Ever since Ethan had taken an active role at meals, Frank had become his best friend, sitting at the foot of the high chair waiting for bits and pieces to be dropped on the floor. I glanced over and sure enough, Frank was intently staring upwards, the only sign of movement coming from a string of drool dangling from his little, flat, face.

I waited until Dick had fed Ethan a third of the cup before vocalizing the thoughts that had been haunting me over the last twenty-four hours, "I think we should tell him."

Despite his swollen lip, Dick smiled as he scooped up a bit of white from Ethan's chin, "Fine… Ethan, my boy… I used to be in a circus and my best friend was an elephant."

"I'm not kidding, Dick."

"What do you want to tell who?" he continued, his smile growing as Ethan tried to resume the Up game.

"We should tell Jim... And Maureen."

"That's the who…" Dick replied, as he tried to get one more spoonful in. When Ethan shook his head no, Dick wiped the little blue plastic spoon and set it down on the tray for him to play with.

"The truth."

"… the whole truth and nothing but the truth," he countered, this time without a hint of humor.

Thankfully, Jim, Maureen and baby Sarah were in Chicago until Sunday night, visiting family and friends, including my father's ex-wife. Given that Jim Jr. had spent most of his life in Chicago, away from the horrors of Gotham City, I was uncertain as to how much he knew of our father's life. Or rather what role it had played in the Joker's hatred for all things law abiding and good.

"We don't have to tell them everything… it's common knowledge that the Joker has had it in for anyone in the Gordon family… Maybe we can talk them in to staying in Chicago, at least until things are safe."

He nodded for a moment before seeing if Ethan wanted another sip of juice. Again he was shut down. "Might not be a bad idea… I mean, sure we'll watch out for them but sometimes being a little paranoid yourself can't hurt."

As Ethan began drawing invisible squiggles on his tray with the spoon, I proceeded, "They need more than paranoia… I want you guys to bring their security system up… I'll talk to him about getting a firearm license, dropping Dad's name should speed things up---."

"Slow down, Babs… I mean… their system is on par with ours, save for the self-destruct option. Tim and I made sure of it before they moved in… And what makes you think he'd want a gun?"

"He's a guy… who's dad was a cop… who'd stop at nothing to protect his family…" I was surprised at the emotion in my voice, nearly as much as Dick appeared to be.

He stood, moving slowly before kneeling in front of me, wrapping his forearms around my waist, "I'm a guy… who was a cop… and I will do anything to protect our family, Barbara."

I bit my lip, trying to fight the burning in my throat by looking over at Ethan as he rambled in his own language.

"I'll tell you what, "I'll take him to the shooting range when they get back, see if he's into it… if not, I'll hire Roy to guard the house."

"He is the better shot," I forced a smirk.

"Ah, but I have the better ass," he leaned forward and kissed my lips softly before getting back to his feet, "All right, Ethan, let's get you washed up… I think it's well beyond your nap time… And mine."

After he wiped the mess from tiny cheeks and tinier hands, Dick took Ethan into the nursery to change him and put him down to sleep for the afternoon. He had stayed home from the office given the fact that his face was still marked with the ugly bruise and split lip. Will was already curious about the hours everyone was keeping, adding an injury to the mix would only raise more questions.

Once the kitchen was cleaned up, I retreated to the den rather than the computer-laden chamber I had been practically living in over the last few months, After pulling myself up onto the couch, I waited for Dick to emerge from the hallway, "In here."

He stopped in the arched entrance before walking through, reclining onto the couch before setting his head in my lap with a content sigh. Dick pursed his lips together, pantomiming a kiss before closing his eyes.

After a quiet moment, his lids fluttered open, his eyes instantly taking on concern upon seeing mine were glassy. In less than a second, he had sat up, moved to sit next to me and wrapped his arms around me, this time pulling me close to his chest.

"It's okay," he murmured.

"She's gone… I… why would he choose her, of all of us, why her?" I fought back tears as I pressed my face into his shirt.

"I don't know… Without a boy wonder, there was no other brightly colored junior crime fighter for him to set his sights on," he offered.

"That's not funny," I replied.

"Can't blame a guy for trying…" he kissed my cheek, "Why does a hero fall? Too brave, too careless… wrong place at the wrong time… most of the time they're trying to save someone, disregarding their safety for someone else's. And knowing her… all of the above."

"Had something in common…" I sniffled.

"What?"

I explained, "Bruce and Helena… never got along… but at least they had something in common… too brave, too careless… wrong place at the wrong time…"

And always disregarding themselves in order to save others, I left silent, trying not to think of the three bullets he took to save my father's life. One among countless other self-sacrifices he's made for thousands of others…

We were quiet again, this time until my eyes were dry and my breaths came slow and quiet. I thought Dick had fallen asleep but when I finally looked up, his eyes were not only open but intensely focused.

"I think we should tell him," he spoke softly.

I quoted him from earlier, "What do you want to tell who?"

"Will… the truth," he hesitated before, "The whole truth."

"And nothing but the truth," I finished for him, "Going to talk to Tim about that one?"

"Yep," he began rubbing my back slowly, "Seriously, what do you think? I mean, he's a guy… who was a cop… and he also would do anything to protect his family… and… I think he deserves to know."

"Didn't he draw a unibrow on you recently?"

"I'm mature enough to forget such antics … that and I spiked his coffee with Cialis, so technically we're even…" his hand stilled, "And how come every time I try to have a serious conversation you make me sound significantly less serious?"

I bowed my head, "Sorry, proceed, oh Serious One."

The Serious One took on a painfully serious tone, "He deserves the truth… After all he's done for us, for all of us… he deserves to be a part of the Family."

I was about to reply before the phone rang from the far end table. Dick let go of me in order to retrieve it, "Hello? Oh hey… You're what?… No, no it's just that I thought… You should come over for dinner, then… sure, no problem at all… All right, we'll see you then. Bye."

"Who was it?" I asked as he set the phone back in it's cradle.

"Jim… he and Sarah came home early, guess he had a fight with Mo… She's not too keen about everything going on here… staying in Chicago until Wednesday… but he said that he and Sarah would be over for dinner so maybe we could tell him tonight."

"And Will?"

"One at a time, Babs, you know how short my attention span is."

For the first time in far too long, I managed a real smile.

^V^

A week after she had been found on the rooftop of police headquarters, Helena Bertinelli was laid to rest in her family's mausoleum, high on a the sloping grassy hill overlooking the city.

While Dick, Barbara, Cassandra and Tim attended the funeral mass at St. Andrew's Roman Catholic church, I waited vigilantly in the cemetery for the procession to arrive. Barbara had reported in just before the service had begun, claiming more than three-quarters in attendance were previous students of hers, barely any sign of what little, staggered extended family she had left. No clowns as of yet.

Selina had not only our children, but Ethan as well, under guard back at Wayne Manor. For the last week, my children had been attending school but I was certain to drop them off and pick them up, cancelling all extra-curricular activities until further notice. Nathan saw it as more time to spend with me at home and was more than happy to oblige. Mattie, on the other hand, had taken the recluse approach, locking herself away in her bedroom and blaring alternative rock music.

Since her brief night out as a vigilante, we had been balancing precariously on the edge of loving father and daughter and unmerciful captor and captive. Selina had suggested I at least let her down in the Cave to watch on as I helped monitor patrols and study hidden surveillance camera footage. Rather than objecting to the notion, I had been quick to propose it to Mattie.

Her eyes had lit up brightly for the first time since her house arrest sentence had begun

I had used our time alone as wisely as possible, trying to replay her actions over the last few weeks, including her work with Cassandra. Eventually, I found the courage to ask her if she had formed a name for herself. She had been reluctant to answer, "Well, I hope it's okay… but… I was thinking… Huntress."

"Huntress," I had replied, more shocked than anything.

"I mean… there was another Robin, Batgirl, Batman… there has to be another Huntress."

End of story.

No doubt she had expected to have full use of the Cave, including her treasured gymnastic equipment. On a particularly slow evening, she had meandered over to practice on the balance beam and I had promptly told her no, thus ending Mattie's interest in being in the Cave with me. She had been quick to report my actions to her mother and when I had surfaced late that night, I was met with an earful from Selina. I did my best to ignore the rant while I washed up and changed for the few hours of sleep I had ahead of me. In summary, I was crossing the boundaries of grounding her, I was holding her and Nathan prisoners in their own home.

As the glossy hearse pulled up the narrow drive of the cemetery, I reasoned that my actions were justly precautious.

The April showers had finally dissimilated earlier in the week and that morning was met with pale blue skies and abundant sunshine but little warmth. Mattie had selected my garb for the day, a black, wool Hugo Boss three piece, a violet shirt with a tie two shades darker. I had asked her about the color scheme and she had replied with a sad look on her face, "I didn't know her… but… I think she'd like it. You know, kind of a special way to pay your respect."

Pay my respect.

On some level I was at the cemetery to do just that, offer silent acknowledgement of a life lost too soon. More importantly, I was there to keep an eye out for unwelcome mourners, namely those that were responsible for her funeral taking place to begin with. Since the rooftop, there had been no "Old" crimes or any sign of the Joker, Harley or BoBo. With all clues pointing to the fact that he knew who we were, we had been on full alert, waiting for him to strike. The fact that he had gone back into seclusion had made matters only worse.

While waiting for my father to come home from the hospital as a child, I was often anxious, causing a ruckus through the halls of Wayne Manor. As I had recently read in Alfred's journal, my mother had tried to tame me by saying that patience was the most important tool of a surgeon.

Alfred had quoted my seven-year-old words, "I thought the scalpel was?"

She had laughed, "That helps, but you have to be patient first, Brucie."

Waiting for my father to come home after a long day in the OR seemed ridiculous

compared to what I was enduring…

Waiting for my greatest enemy to strike out at my Family.

My cell phone chirped in my coat pocket and I reached for it, surprised to see a text message from Barbara: _where r u?_

I replied, bypassing the lazy vernacular that everyone seemed partial to: _I'm standing next to the Crandall mausoleum, straight across from the Bertinelli's._

My next interaction with her was of the physical sense as she waved at me once Dick had helped her from the town car. I nodded in response but made no move to approach her, even as Tim and Cassandra stepped out of the vehicle. Tim nodded over to me and Cassandra offered a sad smile.

I might have been a stone statue for all Dick cared…

Remaining outside, I watched on as the pallbearers, none of whom I recognized, carried a stunning black and silver casket into the massive stone structure. The few attendants followed suit, including those that knew the deceased better as the Huntress. My watch put it at a little after eleven-thirty, nearly four hours since I had left Wayne Manor.

My heart jumped at the sight of Cassandra coming outside not fifteen minutes after she had entered the mausoleum and I found myself tensing, ready for anything. Anything with exception of her walking towards me, fighting back tears and clenching a trembling lip in her incisors.

"Is everything all right?" I asked, an inquiry completely devoid of compassion.

Cassandra nodded and wiped at a stray tear that had escaped her left eye. A lifetime of tutelage from Alfred had instinct forcing me to retrieve my handkerchief before offering it to her. She offered a silent thanks before dabbing at her eyes, "Sorry… just… was doing okay until…"

"It's difficult… when the finality hits." My words were cold, I would have been better off not saying anything.

She bit her lip again before responding, "Sad when Commissioner died... But he was so sick... So long… This is different… so quick… so pointless…"

I fought back images four decades old, of my father's blood pooling at my feet, my mother's body twitching, pearls bouncing…

Looking up at me, Cassandra continued, "Been two of them, hate them."

Tim had explained earlier in the week that Cassandra had been fairly upset over the loss of Helena. As with any stressful situation, she had taken to using a minimal vocabulary and maximum violence. He still had a bump on his brow to prove her actions were speaking louder than her words. Even still, I knew exactly what she meant as I had been saying the same for years.

I hated funerals.

The dark-garbed group emerged twenty minutes later, somber faces both young and old. Tim approached us while Dick and Barbara returned to the car, no doubt eager to get back to the Manor and retrieve their son before I returned home. I looked away as Tim paused beside Cassandra, hugging her briefly before kissing her cheek, "You all right?"

As I looked back, she answered, "Will be… after I hit something."

Tim ducked playfully, causing her to laugh softly. "Sorry, force of habit around you."

She returned my handkerchief, "Thank you."

"Didn't do anything," I started to reply.

Without notice, she wrapped her arms around me, standing on her tiptoes as she whispered in my ear, "Yes, you did." After releasing me, she turned around slowly, smiled at Tim and then punched him in the arm, promptly declaring, "Feel better already."

As she walked away, Tim gently rubbed his arm, "Hopefully we don't pass any Punch Bugs on the way home…" My confused look led him to shake his head, "Never mind… Were you coming down tonight, to the Clocktower?"

He had wanted a complete rehash of evidence and events to date that evening before patrols in hopes of sparking something new. I cleared my throat, "I'll be better off working from the Cave… rather than risking Barbara's wrath reaching for one of her computers."

Tim smirked, knowing the true reasoning behind my decision, "Right… Well, see you at seven then… Oh, I almost forgot… Bryce and Kelsey were at the funeral… Overheard them talking about tracking down BoBo's brother in Pennsylvania… they hope to have him in custody by tonight, he's wanted for armed robbery and few other gems… they want to try to plea bargain with him but…"

I interrupted him, "It might be worthwhile, the family, from what I can tell, is fairly disambiguated… considering most of them are criminals."

"The ties that bind… or not," he sighed before bidding farewell once more.

Seeing how I was there, and that Dick would need at least an hour to get to and from Bristol, I navigated the countless rows to Vesper's grave, decorating it with a white rose. I had never found the therapeutic value in talking to headstones, so instead I stood stoically before her final resting place. After a solemn five minutes of reliving the untimely death of yet another person in my life, I decided to move on to visit another resident.

A fifteen minute walk led me to a large granite marker with James Worthington Gordon engraved on its front. Where I had found nothing to say to Vesper, I found words falling from my lips for him, "It's been awhile, Jim… Surely Barbara's been by to keep you updated on Sarah and Ethan… and Frank… And him... He's still out there, as sadistic as ever… and now he's killed one of us… the Huntress…"

I sighed before bowing my head, "Helena."

After drawing a long breath, I continued, "I don't want to believe that she told him who we are but knowing what he did to her… She was a strong woman, but even I wouldn't expect her to stand up to his worst…" I hesitated suddenly feeling the dryness in my throat and the heat in my eyes, "I can't help but think… that if it comes down to it, if he comes after my Family… and without you here… there's no one to stop me."

My cell phone came to life, causing me to startle. I answered it after seeing it was the Manor's landline, "Yes?"

"Dad, it's me. Nathan."

I found a smirk on my lips as I responded, "I know it's you, tiger. I'll be home in twenty minutes, make sure you're ready to go."

"I am… and my room is clean and my clothes are put away and I even helped Mom and Mattie clean out the pantry…"

My gaze fell to Jim's tombstone and I cleared my throat before saying, "Sounds like you had a busy morning."

"You have no idea, Dad… I haven't even had time to paint his name on his bowl…"

Selina and I had decided that we would finally get him his much desired German Shepherd for two reasons. First, was to reward the improvements in his speech, overcoming his severe case of rhotacism that he had suffered since he was a toddler. Secondly, and more importantly, the dog was to be a secondary form of protection for both him and Mattie.

The trainer, who was the primary source for police and personal protection dogs in the northeast, had hand selected a three-year-old dark sable male German Shepherd for us. As a Level III dog, he was capable of acting as a deterrent, chasing, tracking and even taking down an aggressor both on command and under his own accord. After the mandatory week long handler training at the facility, Nathan's new best friend was ready to come home.

Selina was uneasy at first and came to watch our son interact with the one-hundred and thirty pound dog for the first time. It was quickly evident that the only human in danger would be anyone intending harm on the child, considering the animal followed Nathan everywhere, licked his hair until it was matted to his face and played fetch until its tongue was on the ground.

"Mrs. Wayne, let me assure you, this animal isn't a security system, he's a family member… he'll sleep at your feet while you're on the computer, catch tennis balls in the back yard… anything as long as it involves his family… If anyone threatens his family… he will do whatever it takes to protect you."

On the ride home that night, Selina had said, "You're letting it out in the mornings when it's cold… No, strike that, every morning."

"Yes, dear."

Before hanging up with Nathan, I asked, "What name did you decide on?"

"Mattie helped… since he's like a pet detective… Ace Ventura, but Ace for short."

^V^

Seven days.

Lucky number seven.

Or was it slevin?

Great flick, Goodkat, the Rabbi, the Boss, the Fairy, Bad Dog…

Speaking of which…

"HARLEY?"

I had spent most of the afternoon in the leather recliner, situated in the snazzy den of our humble abode. For a week, Harley had gone about playing housewife, putzing around in a French maid outfit she had picked up at a masquerade store. After our encounter with the youngest bat brat, she had bled all over her lovely harlequin outfit and had to go out and buy a new one. The window display's black and white mini-dress complete with feather duster had been difficult to pass by, in addition to a number of other costumes.

She skipped into the room, this time wearing a school girl's outfit, "Yes, Mistah J?"

"Have you finished your homework?"

She nodded enthusiastically, blond pigtails bouncing on either side of her head, "You bet!" Harley approached as I remained horizontal in the chair. She watched on eagerly as I skimmed the notes she had taken over the last few days on her very important assignment,

"Hmm, both leave for work separate cars… a fight on Wednesday… and Friday… marital bliss can be so blissless…"

"Except for us, right puddin'?"

I peered over the papers at her, "I have yet to grade this… shall I fetch my red pen?"

She shook her head, "No, no, that's okay… Sorry."

I continued skimming, reading bits aloud, "Mom and offspring home by four, Dad by… what's this say? Six-what?"

"Six-thirty," she clarified her bubbly handwriting.

"You'll be writing repetitions on the chalkboard after school tomorrow…" I mumbled before continuing louder, "Dinner as one big happy family, offspring off to bed by eight… another fight between the parental units… Mom upstairs to bed by eleven… Dad downstairs until the wee hours… then sneaks upstairs to bed… Hmm, interesting…"

"What's interesting, puddin'?"

In addition to throwing the pages into the air, I jumped from the recliner so quickly that Harley leapt back, tripping over and ottoman before crashing to the carpet. I smiled heartily before offering her a hand. After she tentatively latched on, I helped her to her feet before kissing her right on the lips. "What's interesting, Harley my dear, is that of all little branches on this wretched family tree, I had expected this one to be the happiest…"

"So, I did a good job?" she asked softly.

"Better than good, Harls, you did an outstanding job! Check plus!"

She leapt into my arms, wrapping her slender arms around my neck, "Oh, thank you, puddin', thank you, thank you--ooo!" she cried out as I let go of her, letting her fall to the ground once more.

"No one likes a teacher's pet… And besides, your assignment isn't done quite yet… you have some extra credit to do."

As she got to her feet on her own, Harley smoothed out the tiny plaid skirt before asking, "Extra credit? Like making a diorama?"

"More like die-o-rama…" I proceeded into the kitchen, reviewing the various charts, maps, lists and food wrappers that carpeted the table. I picked up a crude picture I had drawn of our late night destination and promptly secured it on the fridge with a magnet, "The old Kansas City Shuffle."

"You know I can only granny shuffle… My fingers are too short to do the fancy stuff," Harley complained as she looked over my shoulder.

I turned around and took her pixie chin in my hand, "The Kansas City Shuffle, my dear, is when everybody looks right," I moved her to face the right, "And you go left."

"My left or your left?"

I patted her head gently, "Do I have to revoke the plus on my check plus?" After she shook her head, I pretended to steal her nose, "That's my girl, now run along and change into something more… professional."

"Like the nurse outfit?"

Stomaching the sudden urge to give her the need for a nurse's attention, I responded, "Think less medical, more criminal."

"Gotcha!" she spun around and bee lined for the stairs.

I followed her, less enthusiastically, knowing I was in need of a fresh set of clothes as well. After all, it was bad for business to be out on the town in Dartmouth sweatpants and a teal Ron Jon tee shirt. Perhaps I should have had Harley pick me up a few things while she had been on her shopping spree.

Ah, who was I kidding, this called for the classic look, the one they all knew and loved.

Dressed and dapper, I had Harley let the Doc out for a potty break and quick dinner. I was impressed with how long he had made it, especially after the whole standing by and watching the busty bat-babe going one-on-one with BoBo. That would have surely been enough to send even the moderately sane person over the edge.

I went out to warm up the Hummer, of which I felt was far superior than the pesky Batmobile given that it was able to run over SUV's and pedestrians without spilling so much as drop of chi tea from the cup holder. Then again, I had yet to mount rocket launchers on the hood…

We made good time to our first stop, gathering up a few supplies at the pawn shop while the attendant slept at his desk. I was half tempted to shoot him but decided he was already short for this world considering his girth. From there, I had Harley top off the gas guzzler at an empty station, using the docks Pay n Go Pass in the interest of saving time.

Timing was everything.

And in order to give us more time, I ran into the station and turned the attendant and two shoppers into Swiss cheese.

The fifteen minute ride was spent going over the Shuffle with Harley. Once she was able to recite it word for word with her eyes closed, with one hand patting her head and the other rubbing her belly, I decided she was ready.

Rather than taking the time to find a spot to park on the street, I opted for driving into the front lawn of the well-manicured home, stopping just short of the front door. I had been tempted to cut the electric and phone lines but decided it would only take the guest of honor that much longer to arrive. While Harley barged through the front door, semi-automatics blazing as she shot at random, Kansas City Shuffle commenced.

Everybody looks to the right… I go to the left.

I ran through the back door, kicking it in with sufficient ease thanks to nightly thigh mastering. As bullets continued to bounce and crash in the front of the house, I heard the screams of both adult and child alike from upstairs. Guess Mom and Dad reconciled and went to be early.

Skipping up the stairs, I found myself already giggling.

Thankfully, Mom and Dad hadn't reached the nursery before me, no doubt cowering in their bedroom, dodging bullets as they came up through the floorboards. Harley had been strictly informed as to where to aim and if she sent a bullet my way, she'd be on the receiving end of a serious check minus.

As I opened the door, I was met with shrill cries and wails.

"There, there, my dear, Uncle J is here…"

"Get away from my child, you bastard!!"

I spun around, dodging just in time to duck the swinging arc of a baseball bat. Before my assailant could take another strike, I released the spring loaded blade in my shirt cuff, driving it into his abdomen, "Tsk, tsk, my dear boy… didn't your Daddy teach you how to swing that correctly? You're supposed to hit the ball!" I kneed him in the groin before pulling the blade out.

As I stood, he fell, doubling over as blood came to his lips.

"Oh, that's right… Daddy wasn't around growing up…" I glanced to the red faced child, standing up in bed, "And if you don't smarten up, this one'll never know how to swing a bat either."

He started to get to his feet again and I kicked him in the face, "Your Daddy couldn't beat me, what makes you think that you can, kiddo?" When his limp body didn't respond, I nodded, "Good answer."

Harley came upstairs having silenced the missus as ordered, coming into the nursery with blood on the butt of her gun, "Bunch of crybabies…"

It didn't take long to find the panic room and Harls grunted heavily as I had her drag the unconscious parental over to lock them up while I coddled and doted upon the young child. As I walked about with the little munchkin in my arms, bouncing up down slightly, I told her of all the good times her grandfather and I had over the years, all the laughs we had shared.

"We got company!" Harley cried out just as I was telling the peanut about the smiling fish.

"JOKER!!!!!" a bellow came from below.

"Harls, go out the back and pull the car around for our hasty getaway."

"But what about---."

I kissed the cheek of the little smiling face in front of me, "Don't worry, I've got leverage."

As feet flew up the main stairwell, I retreated to the back one, making sure the lights were on to prevent any mishaps. When the footfalls careened down the corridor, stopping to search the empty, bloodied rooms, I called out, "Marco!"

I had expected the little bird but thankfully it had been the big bird, which would allow for far more emotional pull. He stopped in his tracks fifteen yards away, fists clenched, breaths coming in heavy grunts, "What have you done with them, you sonofabitch!"

Rolling my eyes, I answered, "Such language, in front of the little one… You should know better, boy wonder… I bet Batsy had to wash your mouth out with lye soap every night…"

"Where are they?!" he roared, taking three strides forward.

"At, at, at… wouldn't get much closer than that… After all, I'm dreadful at holding onto these things…" I turned slightly, outstretching my arms to hold the child out above the sixteen foot droop down the steps.

The fury that had been glowing in the mask's eyes changed slightly, suddenly appraising just how little control he had over the situation. Daddy was able to set me off once in a while with the growl tactics, but after seeing this one spend his puberty in tights and pixie boots…

And the little bird, well, he was down right adorable dressing up as the big bad Bat.

"Joker… if you harm that child…"

"What, you'll harm me? You hurt me, I hurt the wee one, you hurt me more… Doesn't sound like fun to me… But hide and go seek, now there's good time."

"Hide and go seek?"

"Well, you can be it first seeing how you're the last to arrive… you get to find the still breathing, although not for long, bodies that are hidden in this house…"

"You think I'm here alone?" his lip twitched.

"Oh, Uncle J knows you're here alone."

He chanced another step forward and I dropped the little one a foot before taking hold once more, filling the tense hallway with little giggles.

The boy in black and blue offered empty hands, his breaths still coming heavy but fear lacing each inhalation, "Give her to me, unharmed… I'll let you go."

"Threatening to bargaining? No wonder he didn't give you the cowl…" I shook my head in shame, "At least the little one put in a good fight before giving in…"

There was a loud horn honk from behind the house, and we both looked in its direction.

I pretended to drop the toddler again, causing my foe to startle.

"These things are hard to hang on to… then I guess you already knew that… almost as well as your dearly departed in-law's, rest their souls…"

The look of anger and fear on his face vanished as shock washed over him.

"Oh, look at that, little Sarah, your Uncle Dick thought he could keep secrets from his Uncle J…"

She reached up and gently touched my cheeks, giggling softly.

I kissed her tiny little button of a nose before looking to the Blue Wonder. Before I leapt down the straight shot of stairs, I threw the pink pajama clad body at him, "Bat-ter up!"

^V^


	10. Now And Then: X

Title: Now And Then: X

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language, adult situations and violence.

Summary: As Gotham's protectors begin to lose control, there is only one man who can set things right…

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Two chapters fairly close together… hope this tides you over for a bit!

A/N 2: Little nod to our mutual love for D and T, Bishopx!! Also, sneaky The Dark Knight nod, if you find it you can have a snowman sugar cookie! Bruce's vocal access code is from Shakespeare's Richard III inspired by watching V For Vendetta and writing very late at night…

^V^

When I had been fourteen years old, Alfred had told me the story about the bridge.

The _once upon a time _had been during Bruce's first year as Batman. He had his work cut out for him as he tried to put a dent in organized crime while being publicly targeted by the commissioner of police. The only honest cop in Gotham at the time, a man named Lieutenant James Gordon, had also been in the crosshairs of Commissioner Loeb simply for doing his civic duty. Two crusaders on both sides of the law had accomplished more in that first year together than any elected official in the history of Gotham.

Since Loeb had been unable to trap the Bat, he had opted to go after Gordon, using his corrupt connections to Carmine Falcone to distance himself. The plan, as Alfred had recalled, had been to lure Gordon to police headquarters in order to kidnap his wife and their newborn child. After a little chat and a vow to play along by their tarnished rules, the family would have been reunited, practically no worse for the wear.

The commish and the Roman had failed to anticipate just how closely Batman had been watching over his future ally.

Having realized that Gordon's family was in danger, Bruce had driven to the apartment complex in plain clothes in order to prevent the kidnapping. In his rush to get there, he had nearly crashed into Gordon as he had been on his way to headquarters. Gordon had been put on guard upon seeing Bruce drive into the parking garage he had just left, instantly taking him for a threat. After a very illegal u-turn, Gordon had raced in after Bruce just in time to see his wife and child being dragged into a sedan.

Perfect marksmanship on Gordon's part had made certain that the bullets he had fired found their targets, namely a kill shot for one of the two goonies that had been trying to get Mrs. Gordon into the sedan.

His last shot fired had hit Bruce square in the chest, sending him flying off of the motorcycle.

With the driver of the sedan unharmed, he had made a clean getaway with the screaming baby. Gordon had not hesitated in taking the motorcycle to make a hasty pursuit, leaving his wife with a gun trained on Bruce's head. Alfred had stated that she had threatened to shoot him as he slowly rose, taking his helmet off.

With no other means of convincing her of his loyalty, Bruce had vowed that he wouldn't let her son die.

Gordon had managed to shoot out a tire on the sedan but unfortunately it had crashed into the railing of a bridge. By the time Bruce had caught up, Gordon was in a violent struggle to take back his child. The man had drawn a knife and slammed Gordon into the railing, in doing so, dropping the baby over the side. In a sheer panic, Gordon had thrown himself and his opponent over, just as another figure had taken a similar dive.

I could still remember sitting on the edge of my bed, eyes wide in fear as I had waited for Alfred to continue. I had heard countless stories of Batman's life before Robin but that one had my heart racing.

"Well?" I had demanded impatiently, "What happened next?"

Alfred had nodded, "A happy ending, Master Dick."

Two men had risen from the shallow murky water.

One had lost his glasses in the fall, the other held a very upset but otherwise perfectly fine baby.

After handing the child over, Bruce had stood in plain sight not a yard away from his future best friend. Gordon's first words had been, "You must be wearing some armor under that jacket."

Bruce, naturally, had only offered a curt, "Yes."

After the infantile cries had quieted, Gordon had continued, "You know, I'm practically blind without my glasses… sirens coming, you better go."

In true Batman style, he had simply nodded and left.

That baby had been the first born son of James and Barbara Gordon.

They had named him James W. Gordon, Jr.

Before me, the life of the firstborn granddaughter of James and Barbara Gordon was in the hands of a madman.

But not for long.

As the Joker disappeared down the stairwell, his laughter echoing through the hall and my mind, I forced out images of Barbara's wheelchair, Jason's unmarked grave and Sarah-Essen Gordon's pointless death. Instinct took over as I leapt into the air, arms stretching out as I overcame the shock that our greatest enemy knew the faces behind the masks he so viciously hated. Although I had yet to find the bodies of Jim and Maureen, I only focused on one thing.

My gloved hands found soft, cotton pajamas and pudgy toddler flesh.

Mission accomplished.

I landed hard on my left shoulder in order to keep myself from careening down the stairs. Knowing the terror I wanted to express would only upset the little girl in my arms, I put on a huge, goofy smile and said, "Don't worry, I gotcha, Miss Sarah!" before kissing her nose.

The image of the Joker doing the same a moment earlier brought bile to my lips.

After making sure she was in fact all right, I quickly put her back in the nursery before locking the door behind me. The Joker and Harley were no doubt long gone, but I still went through the gesture of racing down the hall to look out the back window. Sure enough, massive tire tracks had destroyed the small yard and the dark stained fence had been plowed through.

There was nothing I could do about that…

"Jim!! Maureen!!" I began screaming their names, making my way to the guest bedroom and study that I hadn't initially searched.

My wife's voice, not Oracle's, suddenly came over the comm. link, "Dick, is he---."

"He's gone, I tried to stop him but he had Sarah---."

"Oh my God…" she gasped.

"She's fine, she's in the nursery but they hid Jim and ---."

The clatter of keys sounded before she cut me off again, "They're in the panic room!"

My heart skipped a beat before I backtracked downstairs, feeling my pulse pounding in my ears nearly as loud as Oracle's voice, stammering that she would have it unlocked by the time I arrived. Once more I had to force myself to focus on the task at hand, not the blood spattered over the tan and blue rug that I had helped Jim put in not three months earlier.

"Jim, Maureen, it's Dick, I'm coming in!!" I screamed as loudly as I could before ripping back the hidden fireproof door.

The room within was twelve by twenty with three bunk beds, a toilet, sink and in-laid shelves with a week's worth of food and water. We had installed it before they had moved in, lying that it "came with the house". I had showed them both how to unlock it and then seal themselves in during their first week in Gotham. Maureen had seemed uneasy but Jim had laughed, "I've wanted one of these since that Jodie Foster movie."

This was the first time it had been activated… and it hadn't been at their own hands.

As I checked vitals on both before proceeding to put a compress bandage on Jim, I tried to figure out how in the world the Joker had known about it. And not only that, how he had bypassed the biometric and security locks. He was a criminal mastermind, yes, but for the finer touches he had traditionally hired outside help.

Had BoBo been there? How could I have missed his lumbering presence?

"Ambulance will be there in four minutes… how are they?" Barbara's voice was quaking.

"Jim has an abdominal wound, stabbing… venous blood… vitals aren't too bad…. Mo has a blunt force trauma to the head, strong breath sounds but non-responsive… Wait."

Maureen's eyes began to flutter as her head lolled. Keeping one hand pressed firmly on her beau's bleeding belly, I reached out and gently touched her hand, "Maureen, can you hear me?"

Her eyes finally regained focus as she looked around but when they saw me, she recoiled, screaming as she tried to push herself away.

I withdrew my hand in order to rip the mask from my face, "Maureen, it's Dick, it's all right… Sarah's fine, she's upstairs… Ambulance is coming to take you to the hospital…"

"Where-where where is he?"

"Jim's right here," I offered softly while nodding at his horizontal form on the floor.

"No-no-no-no-no," she began shaking her head slowly before crawling back towards us, "Where… Jim? Jim, Oh God… Oh God…"

I watched on as she carefully cradled his head in her hands, tears flowing freely over her cheeks. She knelt over him, kissing his brow, whimpering words to his still figure. As much as I wanted to evaluate her for a concussion, her focus was required elsewhere.

Barbara arrived not long after the squad cars and ambulance, proving her relationship to the baby in order to take temporary custody. I knew it wouldn't be long before the commissioner herself showed up, given the nature of the attack and the victims. Rather than sneak away before the officials made their way into the house, I put my mask back on and lead them to the panic room after directing someone upstairs to Sarah.

"The door's locked, you'll have to break it down."

A pair of young officers nodded before racing up the stairs, no doubt arguing about who was going to be the hero.

It certainly wasn't me.

As I stepped outside, a slight shiver down my spine meant that Batman was waiting nearby.

I should have stayed and talked to him, replayed my encounter with the Joker before doing a run through of the house for viable forensics before the crime scene crew ruined everything.

But I didn't.

After a quick stop at the Clocktower, I ignored Cass's sad looks in order to hug and a sleepy and confused Sarah.

"Can't get her to sleep," she admitted, disrobed of her suit save for the leggings, under tunic and body armor.

I picked the toddler up off of the couch and carried her into the master bedroom, "Come with me, Cass."

After directing Cass to change Sarah into fresh Pull-ups and pajamas, courtesy of her cousin Ethan, I set up a travel crib that Barbara and I had never used. Taking Ethan's extra pillow and blanket off of our bed, I tucked her in while giving her soft kisses and little tickles. The small Bose stereo on the dresser had a CD already on pause. Pressing play yielded the fourth track of a Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds concert at Radio City Music Hall: Save Me.

Blindly grabbing clothes from the closet, I changed in the bathroom, ignoring the haunted look on my reflection. Risking the chance of waking him, I snuck into Ethan's room and kissed his brow before touching his chest, feeling it rise and fall beneath my palm.

I broke enough traffic laws to have my license suspended ten fold as I rode my motorcycle to Mercy's emergency room, silently replaying the story of the bridge over in my mind. The waiting area was filled with the usual crowd, nearly half of the homeless variety simply looking for a warm place to spend the night. After showing ID to the nurse at reception and insisting my urgency, I moved through the triage center in order to get to the quieter and significantly less populated holding area.

Barbara was in her wheelchair, staring listlessly at the empty chairs around her. Rather than pull one up next to her, I chose to kneel in front of her, taking cold, pale hands into mine, "Babs?"

Without looking at me, she responded mechanically, "Maureen went up for an MRI but they think she's okay… mild concussion at worst… that and the shock…"

"How's Jim?"

Barbara's green irises stood out starkly against blood shot eyes, "Just went up to the OR… they needed to do explore the abdomen… identify the source of the bleeding…"

I brought her knuckles up to my lips.

Last week, we had decided to tell our deep, dark secret to Jim and Maureen as a means of protecting them. In addition, I had personally upgraded their security system, connecting it to my mobile computer so that I would be able to activate locks, lights and cameras.

The Joker literally driving into the foyer had rendered said adjustments useless.

Bruce had saved Jim Jr. once… I would give anything to carry on the family tradition.

"Barbara…" I began, "I need to tell you something…"

"You did all that you could… It's not up to you now, it's---."

"No… I know… and Jim's going to be fine, he's still hasn't put together that bookshelf from Ikea… A little stab wound won't get him out of that and you know it…"

Barbara smiled weakly as she withdrew a hand to wipe tears from her face.

The smirk faded from my lips as I continued, "Barbara… if he… if he comes after us… after Ethan…"

"I'd like to see him try," she interrupted me.

I was silent for a moment before trying once more to put my dreadful thoughts into words, "Tim is too busy living in Bruce's shadow… he wouldn't even consider it as being an option… Cass will never go down that road again…"

Finally, Barbara was speechless.

I actually felt my blood chill in my veins as I finished, "If he comes after our son… I'll kill him."

^V^

I had no idea what was gong on.

Deep in the Bowery, I had been teaching six men that it was wrong to sell drugs to kids when Oracle had contacted me. Last I had known, Batman was in Chelsea following a lead on a plausible Harley sighting and Nightwing was somewhere near Tri-Corner.

There used to be four of us.

She had ordered me to the Clocktower to watch over Ethan and Sarah until she could get back.

"Sarah?" I had asked, "And back from where?"

"The hospital… The Joker attacked Jim and Maureen," she replied hastily before closing the connection.

Needless to say, it took me half the time to get there as it should have.

Especially since I rode mostly on the sidewalk.

By the time I had made it to my former home, Barbara was on the phone in the den, her voice somewhat contained but her body language was anything but. Moving the phone from one ear to the next, constantly glancing over her shoulder at Sarah as she sat in Nathan's hanging chair not to mention the anxiety tensing every inch of her torso and arms.

After removing my mask, boots, gloves, cape and tunic, I took Sarah out of the chair in order to sit with me on the couch. She latched onto me without any intention of letting go. I instinctively began rubbing her back while offering bright smiles and soft assurances that it was okay even though I had no evidence to support them.

Encounters between members of the Gordon family and the Joker rarely ended "okay".

Barbara approached us as she tucked away a cell phone in her purse, "Bruce will be down as soon as he can to take over… So you can go back out… Dick might be by but only to change… I have to go," she looked up at my face, her eyes painfully green.

"What happened?"

She opened her mouth to answer but shook her head, "I don't know… I… I'm sorry, Cass, I have to go."

After grabbing her coat and keys, she did.

Sarah remained unsettled despite my best efforts. It was midnight and well passed her bedtime, and she had just survived the first traumatic experience of her life. I tried walking around with her, sitting in the rocking chair, feeding her including her favorite flavor of yogurt but nothing seemed to work.

All she wanted was her parents.

Dick barged through the front door at ten after twelve, quickly picking up his niece and offering comfort, to her and himself. He then had me change her for the night while he set up a temporary crib in the master bedroom. Once he changed, he checked in on us briefly, somewhat pleased to see she was starting to relax amongst soft blankets in the darkened room.

"Barbara said he was coming down."

"Bruce?" he asked, his eyes never leaving the child's exhausted face. "Good… I shouldn't be too long at the hospital… just until we get word on Jim."

I made a third attempt at finding out what had happened, and thankfully, he answered, "Joker and Harley stormed their house, knocked Maureen out and stabbed Jim, locked them up while they tried to take Sarah. I got there just as they were leaving… he… he threw Sarah at me as a decoy so he could escape."

"Talk to Tim yet?"

"No… he was there, afterwards… no doubt he's scouring the house while fighting off Kelsey's crime scene units."

I was quick to offer, "I'll patrol… when he gets here."

Dick nodded, the same expression in his eyes that I had seen in his wife's. He glanced down the hall towards the nursery and stated, "We'll need to meet, all of us, back here tonight. Tell Tim… and Bruce."

With two sleeping toddlers in the apartment, I armed myself with the baby monitor for Nathan and a hand held receiver for a small camera I set up for Sarah, courtesy of my utility belt. Alone, I made my way to Oracle's lair, confused when the hidden palm reader on the fake credenza didn't yield to my hand. There were only two reasons: Barbara had disowned me for drinking out of her orange carton last Tuesday and had removed my scan from the approved list.

Or the system was in lockdown.

Not good.

Lockdown meant that the apartment and the many floors below were armed and ready for intruders of all varieties. Sonic alarms that would burst ear drums, gas bombs primed to deploy fumes to cause gut wrenching vomiting and simultaneous sneezing. As I recalled, the fifth floor had a system that would ensnare the unwelcome guests head to toe in epoxy and silicone, essentially stopping them dead in their tracks.

As thirsty as I was, I wasn't daring enough to even set foot into her kitchen.

Returning to the den, I donned my cowl and activated the link, "Batman?"

"Busy," came his curt reply.

"Where are you?"

"8th and Orchard…"

"Not the house?"

"I've already been there… Their getaway car is here… they abandoned the purple hummer, the transmission is shot… tire is out. They took off on foot but there was a report of an armed carjacking three blocks down, Kelsey's on it."

"Why are you with the Hummer?

"Evidence."

And he had been on my case for my shortened vocabulary of late.

"What?" I asked, hating that I wasn't there.

Batman hesitated before answering, "It's the Joker's wanted poster… wait… UV…"

"Like the Planetarium."

Seeming to have ignored me, he continued, "Like the envelope for the tourist joke… _Old policeman never die, they just cop out_."

We both were silent for a moment.

I heard a door slam on his end before, "Doesn't make sense. Each target has reflected the joke, every one of them. The clerk, the bankers, mechanics, tourists, hell even the trombonist… even if it's the same name it doesn't make Jim a cop…"

Looking at the display of Sarah sleeping, I asked, "What does it mean, that he didn't kill a cop? Didn't leave it there…"

"I think… it means he intends to."

A moment later he excused himself, rather politely considering he had all the justification in the world to simply shut down the connection in order to head to the next crime scene. I promised to be back out there as soon as possible and that Dick wanted to meet tonight.

"I agree," he sighed, "This night's not going to end. Not in it's own."

Seeing as I had already put on my cowl, I opted to don the rest of my suit to be ready the very moment Bruce arrived. I was securing my left boot when a soft tap at the door sounded. I had expected a loud series of bangs but then realized he wouldn't have wanted to disturb the children.

At least they were able to get some sleep.

Given the circumstances, I still took a second to look through the peephole, pleased to see Bruce in a dark leather jacket over a blue ribbed sweater. I unlocked the physical deadbolts before pressing my palm on the reader, this one disguised as a "Home is where the Heart Is" ceramic plate on the wall.

That way, when I opened the door, he wouldn't be shot with a series of tranquilizer darts.

He breezed by me, "Have you been in contact with him?"

"Dick went to the hospital---."

He turned to face me as I closed the door, as if he suddenly realized I was wearing my suit. Even though it had been years since he had stepped down, I had never been comfortable being armed and ready for battle when he wasn't. The look on his face said he felt the same way.

"I meant… never mind, I'll raise him on the Oracom."

"Can't, on lockdown, I just tried to get in."

Without removing his shoes, a cardinal sin as I had been taught, he continued through the foyer and towards the back of the apartment. I followed suit, including keeping my boots on. By the time I caught up with him, he was already being denied access to the secured room.

"Damnit… should have stayed at the Cave…" he muttered before looking down at me, "Do you have an extra communicator?"

I nodded, retrieving it from the pack on my belt that contained a few supplementary tools. Back up radio, small water bottle, clean socks. I had once kept protein bars but Tim had always managed to steal them from me so I started keeping them in the front pouch with my first aid kit and flashlight.

Back in the day…

I wanted to update him on what I had learned a few minutes earlier but decided it was a job best left to Dick.

"Both are sleeping," I handed him the baby monitor and the hand held display, "Should be set for the night… Dick wanted everyone back here, later tonight… to meet. Including you."

The night Huntress was found, Dick had gone to the Cave, the real Cave to talk to Bruce. Barbara had said she had regretted urging Dick to answer Bruce's request given how upset everyone was. There had been words said that shouldn't have and in the end, Bruce snapped and punched Dick.

It had been over a week ago and they had yet to speak with one another.

They had fought like this before, when Dick had killed the bank robber.

It would certainly be an interesting meeting.

He nodded slightly, already beginning to inspect the credenza, "I'll be here… Selina is staying with the kids at the Manor… she wanted to come down to watch the Clocktower but…hmm, maybe the connection is faulty, from the scanner to the locks," he crouched beside the wooden piece of furniture, pulling his sleeve up before reaching behind it, "…damn fine time to have given Alfred time off-AH!"

"Booby trap?" I asked, stepping forward as he withdrew his hand suddenly.

He lifted his arm, revealing a small puncture wound in his forearm just above the wrist. I glanced behind the faux antique to see a small mechanical arm drawing back into the wall.

"Told you," I chided.

Firmly pressing his splinted hand on the wound, Bruce nodded, "That you did… I'll leave Barbara with two dirty diapers to thank her."

Although I offered to help him bandage it, he insisted he was fine and that I was needed out on the streets. Before I could reply, Batman's growl came over the link, both in my ear and in the radio Bruce had left on the credenza, "The car he stole turned out to be already stolen, perp said it was on E… there was a gas station held up ten blocks away, four dead… Kelsey pulled in a hundred off duty cops to canvass the borough… Dick's suiting up at the Sat-Cave but he'll be working on the house."

With the distinct hum of the streets in the background, I asked, "Where are you going?"

"The hospital, Jim's out of surgery, I'm on my way over to question him."

"Is he okay?"

"Puncture up through the liver and into diaphragm, had to remove a lobe… no sign of other organ damage…"

I waited in case Bruce wanted to announce he was listening in but when he didn't I responded, "And Maureen?"

He hesitated before answering, "They're releasing her in the morning, Jim will be in recovery for at least a week… Some off duty detectives came in, are going to stand guard on their rooms."

"Kelsey spared them," I commented.

"No, they came in once they heard it on the scanner. They're doing it for Jim." he left Senior unsaid before finishing in a softer, lighter voice, "I'll see you at the Clocktower later… just… Cass, just be careful."

^V^

We had told Jim and Maureen the truth in order to protect them, or rather to let them know we would protect them.

We had waited for her to come back home to Gotham, inviting them over so we could prove our outlandish claims.

We hadn't talked it over with any other member of our Family.

Until then.

The room at the end of the hall, eight doors down from Jim's, was vacant thanks to a sign I had planted declaring it was closed for repairs. Dark, quiet, and out of sight of the police guarding my brother's room. A perfect place to break the news to Tim, especially since there was a handy gurney and oxygen outlet nearby.

While the on-duty nurses checked Jim's bandages, helped him wash up and gave the first round of meds for the night, I snuck out claiming I was going to call Cass to see how the kids were. Still out of it from anesthesia, he had reached out for me, "Where's Mo?"

"I'm right here, Jim," she replied from the other side of the gurney, dressed im clean clothes I had taken from their house. Very hush hush.

After she placed her hands on his arm, he looked over at her and smiled weakly, "Mo… My Mo…"

Leaving them had been nearly as hard as being there.

I knocked three times on the locked door, taking a moment to admire my crafty sign. As the nurses had done their rounds, I had borrowed one of their computer terminals to fill out and print a genuine hospital Out of Service order. I had even gone as far as forging the signature of the hospital's head of operations after looking up his security card on the network.

No harm, no foul.

The lock clacked prior to the door was pulling back and I glanced up the hall one last time before moving in. After Jim had made it out of surgery, Dick had headed to the Sat-Cave to don his backup suit rather than doing so at the Clocktower. He had claimed it was simply a matter of convenience but I knew he was making sure to avoid running into Bruce.

I moved to the center of the room before turning around to face him, in complete Nightwing garb from head to toe. After locking the door, he asked, "How is he?"

"Okay, tired… Starting to come out of it."

"Hate anesthesia," he muttered, "Always makes me feel like I'm in an episode of the Wuzzles."

"You're dating yourself," I offered a smirk as he walked over and leaned against the locked gurney.

Rather than smirk back, he crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head, "Should have gotten there sooner…"

"Dick, we've been over this… My radar had you two miles away when their silent alarm sounded… Aside from teleporting or flying, there was no way of getting there any faster than you did."

He was quiet for a moment, then muttered, "We're all turning into Bruce."

"What?"

"Blaming ourselves relentlessly for things out of our control…" he let out a tired laugh, "Tim blames himself for Huntress, Cass for Mattie, I 'm at fault for Jim and Mo… what's your claim to fame?"

Rather than answer him, I posed my own question, "What are you talking about Cass blaming herself for Mattie?"

His brow rose, causing the mask to shift n his face. When my brow rose as well, he took translated the threat and was quick to answer, "Tim… he said they had a fight last week, he accused her of knowing Mattie was going into the City."

"And?"

"She beat him up, locked herself in the bathroom, cried and then said she didn't know that Mattie was going to do it but she had pushed her to that point."

"And when did you plan on telling me this?"

He shrugged, letting his arms down in order to rest his weight on his palms as they grabbed the thin mattress, "I wasn't… Tim wasn't even supposed to tell me…"

Letting a sigh out, I sat back, crossing my own arms, "How you've managed to keep secret identities under wraps this long is a miracle."

He winced, practically unnoticeable but it spoke volumes.

Before I could ask what was wrong, the large window clicked open, drawing both of our gazes. Out the darkness, an even darker figure emerged, stepping into the room with a growl, "How are they?

I updated him on both of their conditions before adding, "I don't think he's up to being questioned… Mo was sitting right next to him and he didn't even know she was there."

"We don't exactly have the luxury of being able to wait. He has three more bodies on the ground, and possibly another three if he was responsible for the shooting at that gas station. And if you hadn't gotten to their house in time---."

"Don't," Dick said as he pulled off his mask before stepping towards Batman, "Don't even say it."

"All I'm saying is that his body count is on the rise, waiting for our prime witnesses to regain their composure isn't going to save anyone," he countered.

Before Dick put his foot in his mouth, I spoke up, "Just… Just take it easy on them… I've talked to Mo briefly, all she remembers is gun fire, Jim leaving the bedroom to get Sarah and then someone coming in the room and hitting her on the head."

He grimaced before saying, "Fine."

"The nurses should be done with him in a few minutes," I offered, looking to the door for no reason.

"Good, I have to make a call to Kelsey---."

"There's one more thing," Dick interrupted him. When that earned him an impatient look, he continued, "We… Jim and Mo, Maureen know."

"Know what?"

I went to help out but Dick stood his ground, "Barbara and I told them about us, only us."

"You what?" Batman snapped, fists clenching.

"They had a right to know, they're family. You told your father and Dana---."

"I told them because he was on to me, they had no idea!"

"Enough!" I snapped. They both looked to me as I snarled at them, "Jim is in a hospital bed, Maureen is in shock, their daughter was nearly killed and all you two can do is argue about things you can't change?! Jesus, you were right, Dick, you're all turning into Bruce! Why don't you just punch each other in the face while you're at it!"

With that, I spun around, unlocked the door and returned my brother's bedside.

The nurses were gone as I slowly passed through the door, closing it behind me. Despite the hour and the events of the night, Jim was propped up in bed, fairly alert. Maureen was still in the chair, although she had dozed off.

"Should I wake her?" Jim asked softly, "The concussion…"

"It's a mild one… she'll have a headache in the morning and a bump on her head, but she'll be okay."

His head slowly turned to me, "How… how is Sarah?"

"Fine, she's having a slumber party with Ethan. She can stay there as long as you guys need her to."

Blinking a few times, he inquired, "If Dick's here, who's…"

"Cass came over to watch over them. Told her you guys had a family emergency."

His lip quivered before he replied, "We certainly did…"

I reached out and took his hand, "It's okay, Jim…"

"No, it's not… I… should have gone with Dick, to get the gun permit… I… I could have done something."

"And gotten yourself hurt even more? I don't think so. You saved your daughter by distracting the Joker, taking up time until Dick arrived."

I waited for him to reply after a minute of silently looking at the love of his life, "We're moving back to Chicago…. Mo should have never come home to begin with…"

A tear slipped over his bruised face as I nodded, "It's probably for the best, until things are safe here---."

He shook his head before letting his chin drop to his chest, "No, sis… Mo, she wants to move back there for good. She… she doesn't want Sarah to… we don't want her to grow up like this, living in fear…"

"She's isn't going to remember any of this, Jim, it will all be a bad dream by tomorrow."

"A bad dream…" he echoed, "This was why my mother left Gotham, why she left Dad. All those years I never understood how a city could be so dangerous, it was just like New York or Seattle, and it had it's own band of superheroes…"

He let go of my hand to wipe his face.

I offered him a tissue but he refused, "Men don't use tissues…"

An infamous Jim Gordon Sr. line, I finished it with a sad smile, "They use their sleeves."

Rather than smile back, Jim looked at me, the pain of his world coming apart stamped on his face, "Barbara… I know he was able to survive the things the Joker did to him, you as well… But I can't, I can't let him come after my family again… I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, nothing."

Ten minutes later, Batman appeared and I wondered just how long he had been in the room. With a soft voice, he asked Jim questions about what the Joker had said rather than about what he had done. He then vowed to bring him in, no matter what, for what he had done to his family.

Once alone again, Jim had muttered under his breath, "Dad always said he was emotionless. Like a machine."

"I told him to be on his best behavior. Or else."

Jim had smirked and then winced, "Hate to see him on his worst behavior."

After I had a set of nurses bring in a cot for Maureen to sleep on, I headed to the parking garage in order to make the drive back to the Clocktower. After plugging my cell into the charger, I saw I had one missed call from Devon Banks, the pseudonym Dick had chosen for his Nightwing line. I played the message as I made the trek down three stories of dark, silent parked cars, "Hey, it's me… we moved up the meeting… Figure it's important enough to stop patrols… I… wanted to tell you at the hospital, but you know who showed up, and we both know how that went… but… I, I still wanted you to know first, because… it's just that.. he… Crap, never mind, some douche nozzle just punched out a homeless girl, gotta go, love you!"

Once I had pulled into the underground garage of the Clocktower, I parked between Dick's Camaro and a 1999 Hayabusa cycle he had bought at an auction last November. His plan had been to fix it up and either make it into a faster Cycle or sell it on eBay. Since our life had been turned upside down, he hadn't so much as taken the dust sheet off of it.

Reaching our floor, I unlocked the front door, quickly touching the reader on the inside of the door to keep myself from succumbing to my own defense measures. The lights were dim throughout the apartment but as I bypassed the kitchen, I noticed Bruce was sitting alone at the table.

Just as he had when he told Dick he was stepping down from the mantle…

"Bruce?"

He looked up, the bright lighting bringing out a lifetime of pain on his face. After sitting back, he informed, "Cass and Tim are on their way."

"And Dick?"

"Nursery."

Unlike everyone else, Bruce kept his questions about my Jim and Maureen to himself. No doubt he was already well informed. As I passed into the kitchen, I spotted a drop of blood on the white tiled floor, looking long enough to draw Bruce's attention as well.

"You tried messing with the door, didn't you?"

He pulled back the sleeve of his sweater, revealing a bright white bandage, marked by dried blood.

"Serves you right," I smirked before starting up a fresh pot in the coffee maker.

Not a minute later, Dick walked through the open entrance still in uniform save fore his mask and boots, "Hey… you making breakfast?"

"Little early, don't you think?"

He countered, "Fine, make me go to Denny's in the middle of the night…"

When I turned away from the counter, I could see the male tension looming in the air.

"I'm.. going to go freshen up, unlock my cubicle… give you two some time to chat."

I left the bedroom door open, just in case my kitchen spontaneously combusted.

^V^

"So…"

"So…" I repeated.

"Listen, Bruce, this is---," Dick cut himself off abruptly reaching for his left ear. With the other hand he grabbed for his mask, donning it before saying, "All right, I'm on it."

"Duty calls," I commented.

Dick looked at me, almost apologetically, then replied, "Sorry…. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

Without waiting for a response, he took off.

When Selina had been woken me several hours earlier, telling me Barbara was on the phone, I had been put off guard that I wasn't in the bedroom and that it had only been midnight.

As I took the cell phone from my wife, her face distraught for a soon to be known reason, I had slowly recalled that I had come up from the Cave shortly after nine, looking for a quiet place to rest my eyes before the night truly began.

And apparently lapse into a coma.

The fog of sleep had instantly vanished upon hearing, "The Joker's attacked Jim and Maureen."

Nearly dropping what I had finally determined to be Selina's cell phone on the floor, I jumped to my feet, racing to the study to initialize a lock down on the Manor. To be fully activated, keeping anyone from getting in or out, required two and a half minutes. Plenty of time to get a coat and a set of car keys.

I had told Barbara I would call her back en route before promptly hanging up. Selina had followed me to the study and as I took off to the service entrance, she had still been at my heels, "Where are you going?"

"I don't know yet… Jim and---."

"I know, she told me… Bruce, what---."

"I'm sorry, I don't have time. The Manor will be secure in a minute, stay here with Mattie and Nathan… I'll be back as soon as I can…"

"You can't help from the Cave?"

I had paused before replying, "No, I don't think I can. Not this time." After grabbing a set of keys for the Bugatti Veyron, a vehicle I had bought for the purpose of copying its sixteen cylinder engine for the Mobile. It topped out at two-hundred fifty-three miles per hour in automotive studies but I've had it at nearly two-sixty. Also, it doubled as a prime piece in a billionaire's toy box considering the price tag rang up over a million dollars.

I paused, with forty-five seconds left to get in the car and out the front gate to spare, and kissed her.

Thankfully, the glossy black car made it to sixty miles per hour in less than three and a half seconds, giving me a fraction of a second window before the gates locked behind me. The fourteen miles to the city limits flashed by in a dark blur. Despite driving speeds in the triple digits, I managed to still call Barbara back without devastation. Answering on the third ring, she promptly rehashed the horrid events of the evening in addition to requesting that I go to the Clocktower to watch over Ethan and Sarah.

"Me?"

"Cass is there now but… We need her…"

I had felt something twist in my gut as I had told her I would be there in three minutes. It wasn't until I had walked through the front door of their apartment, seeing Batgirl waiting for me that it had hit me. It had been the realization that I wasn't able to help in that way, sinking in to the pit of my stomach.

Before Cassandra had left, she had said that Dick had called a meeting later that night, not Tim. Yes, he had been the one to intervene the Joker and as much as he was one to talk, he rarely called the group to order, especially since Tim had stepped up in my place. Whether it was out of respect for his little brother or that deep down he had already had his share of being in charge in my year long absence over a decade ago, I had been undecided.

It was nearly six in the morning before both Tim and Cassandra had returned, their night plagued by a wild goose chase after the Joker's latest automotive acquisition. The plan had originally been to meet mid-patrols but with solid leads coming in, they had decided it was best to act first, talk later, including calling Dick back out to help. Rather than make the drive home, I had stayed, doing my best not to encourage Barbara to injure me further with her apartment. Mainly, I had stayed out of her way and when I did enter the secret room, I had announced myself rather than sneak up behind her and had asked for an update rather than demand it of her.

Needless to say, I had made it to dawn practically unscathed.

Selina called shortly before six, just I had been dialing the Manor. After updating her on Jim and Maureen's conditions, I brought her up to speed with the other events of the night, including the fact the Joker had stolen another vehicle and had killed at least three if not more in the process.

She hesitated before responding, "Falling apart…"

"What?"

"Everything's falling apart."

I had no reason to convince her otherwise, so I changed the topic, "Tim and Cass are on the trail of the car he stole, some hit and run's and traffic camera footage have mapped out the path they took to get out of the city, headed towards Coventry but I doubt that's where they've been."

"Really, plenty of perfectly innocent families for him to terrorize out there," she countered.

"It's not perfectly innocent families he's after, Selina."

"Thanks for reminding me," she snapped.

"Selina, I'm sorry, I meant---."

"Call me when you're coming home."

Click.

Rather than smashing her cell phone into the floor or wall, I simply closed it and returned it to my pocket. My temper had done enough damage of late and acting as I desired would have woken two toddlers who were certainly not ready to face the day.

Not a minute later, the phone chirped and I answered without looking, "Selina, I'm sor---."

"Sorry, wrong female to bow down to," Barbara cut me off, "They're here."

Click.

As I entered the room I had been denied access earlier in the evening, I instantly spotted Tim, cowl pulled back as he leaned over Barbara's shoulder, pointing something out on the central monitor. I allowed myself to think for a moment that I had never been allowed to do the same without consequence.

"Still sleeping?"

I looked to the right to see Cass, who had already changed into Lycra pants and a fitted hooded sweatshirt. After nodding, I answered, "Soundly."

"Lucky," she offered a smirk before it turned into a yawn.

Barbara and Tim both turned face me, but only Tim acknowledged me with a curt nod and, "Good morning."

"Is it?" I asked.

"Could be worse… Kelsey had an APB put out on their new mode of transportation, a retired cop in Coventry just so happened to be walking his dog while they drove by… said they actually stopped at the stop sign, gave him enough time to withdraw his Glock and fire off ten rounds."

A gun did not make the morning a good one but I kept my mouth shut.

Barbara added, "Harley was driving, and she was hit, small amount of her blood was found on the driver's side seat, window and the steering wheel… Ended up crashing into the front of a FedEx -Kinko's before taking off. No sign of them taking on a new ride yet but there was a significant blood trail from Harley for about a quarter of a mile and then nothing."

Tim ran a gloved hand through his short hair, "Most likely picked up by BoBo… he has three vehicles registered under his name, none of which are up to date… we've been looking for them since last week and nothing's turned up yet… no doubt he also has a significantly illegal mode of transportation."

"Any word yet on Bobo's brother? Whether or not he's going to cut a deal?" I finally spoke.

"Not budging an inch," Barbara answered.

"Apparently they are thick as thieves."

We looked to the window to see Nightwing passing through. After securing it, I expected him to remove his domino mask but instead he stood stoically, arms hanging at his sides. Apparently, he had no intentions of wasting any more time as he began right away, "Sorry that I'm late, I went back to the house to play it over in my mind, figured it was best to do it there. I'm sorry I haven't been forthcoming with the details but.. I wanted us all here… so I would only have to go through it once."

There was brief pause before he finally reached up and removed his mask, "As I reached the house, I found the purple Hummer not only in the front yard but partially through the front entrance. The lights were out in the house save for the main corridor upstairs. The first floor's front rooms suffered heavy semi-automatic gunfire, including through the ceiling. I heard footsteps upstairs and opted to search the second floor first… the master bedroom was empty and there was a small trace of blood on the left side of the bed, no doubt where Maureen was attacked. I then moved to the nursery which was also empty, but there was a considerable amount of blood on the floor, of which showed drag trails into the corridor…"

Barbara asked, "Either BoBo and-or Harley dragging them down to the panic room."

Dick nodded before continuing, "It was then that I heard the Joker call out to me."

"What did he say?" Tim asked.

"Marco…"

Polo.

"I then located him at the end of the corridor, right about the stairs leading down to the kitchen and the rear entrance of the house. He had Sarah in his arms, she appeared unharmed, thankfully. He engaged in his usual banter, bringing up my past as Robin and my relationship with you," he looked to me before proceeding, "Every threat I made he countered by pretending to drop Sarah down the stairs. He then informed me that Jim and Maureen were alive, trapped in the panic room downstairs, although I didn't take it for the truth until I found them after…"

An angry look washed over his face before he finished, "The Joker then pretended to drop Sarah one final time, this time… she laughed, thinking it was a game… he said… 'These things are hard to hang on to… then again I guess you already knew that'," his gaze dropped to Barbara's face, " 'almost as well as your dearly depart in-laws'."

The pain in my stomach from earlier that night was engulfed by flames, the finality of his knowing the truth.

"Did he mention anyone else?" Tim was quick to ask.

Who we were.

Dick shook his head, "No… he threw Sarah in the air in my general direction and leapt down the stairs while I caught her."

Who our children were.

"By the time I had made sure she was okay, they were gone."

I had to get home.

Without excusing myself, I spun out of the room and ran down the hall, ignoring as they cried out my name. Tim ran after me but I made it to the front door before he could stop me. It would have taken a barrage of gunfire to keep me from getting back to them within the next ten minutes.

Selina's cell phone chirped in my pocket as I made it to the car, but I wasn't about to waste time answering a call that would hinder my ability to back out and get to St. James as quickly as possible. I was a minute out when I called the Manor, having Selina go into the study to override the lockdown.

Once she had entered the fifteen digit code into a keypad within a bust of William Shakespeare, she then held the phone up to a mall receiver so that I would be able to submit the vocal key, "_And thus I clothe my naked villainy, with old odd ends stolen forth from holy writ, and seem a saint when most I play the devil_."

"Shakespeare line… in Shakespeare's head… wow… Wait, it's beeping."

"Blue light flashing?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm coming home."

^V^

Ms. Barbara had called to inform me of the tragic loss of Ms. Bertinelli the morning after it had happened.

Master Dick had called me not two hours later, worried for Master Timothy.

Miss Mattie's call had her telling me of how her father had fought with her older brother, ending the conflict in violence right before her very eyes.

My Family needed me.

I had spent the week since Ms. Bertinelli's death debating as to what would be the proper course of action. Leaving Africa meant a very slim opportunity of returning in the immediate and distant future. Leslie, who was more than adamant about not returning to Gotham, would be left behind at the DWB clinic. However, staying in Africa meant abandoning my charges as they fell further into the abyss.

As fate would have it, I had made my decision just prior to a rather eventful night in Gotham.

Bidding farewell to Leslie had been far easier than I had imagined, perhaps a subconscious reassurance that I had made the right decision. She had been upset at first, but had quickly agreed with the motive behind it. Her exact words had been, "Well, I suppose one of us had to go home eventually to make sure our boy was behaving himself…"

"Shall I relay a message?"

Leslie had smiled warmly before embracing me, "Give him one of these for me."

"Consider it done, madam."

The first half of my venture was a six and a half hour flight to Brussels, where I was able to refuel, stretch my legs and arrange an expedited take off time courtesy of Wayne Enterprises' notable influence. Not one to lie, I merely suggested that it had been imperative that Mr. Wayne's Lear made it to Gotham by six in the morning, eastern standard time.

It hadn't been my fault that they failed to inquire if the world renowned philanthropist was in fact on board.

The next leg of the flight was just under six hours, putting the time at twenty after five in the morning as I landed at the Gotham International Airport. Once I made it off of the runway, I contacted the long term parking garage, pleased to discover that there was a Wayne owned vehicle on the third level. A late nineties BMW sedan that had been brand new when it was put into storage.

After putting the ridiculous sum on the house credit card, I was escorted to the vehicle by an armed security guard. Although it was nice to have someone carry my luggage after a long twelve hours, the true reasoning had apparently been for my safety.

"Can't be too careful with all those weirdoes out there," the guard noted as we reached the silver vehicle.

I tipped him handsomely before replying, "Truer words, dear boy, have never been spoken."

Having been away from Gotham for four months should have caused a greater cultural shock than I endured while driving home. I then reasoned with my old mind that after spending a lifetime in the City made four months away seem nothing more than a long holiday. Nothing appeared to have changed aside from construction around the airport and a new hotel in the works just as I left Little Stockton and entered Midtown. An early morning motor vehicle accident had Barber Street blocked off, thus forcing me to take Connor Avenue into Neville, making the forty minute commute twenty minutes longer.

After four months, it seemed as if it was an eternity.

Finally making it over the River and out of the city limits, I nearly called the Manor in order to at least notify Miss Mattie. She, no doubt, would be up at such an hour even on a weekend. At the last minute, I decided not to, thus making my return a surprise for everyone.

The last three miles of the trek rushed by and before I knew it I was passing through the open gates and up the drive to Wayne Manor. One of Master Bruce's elaborate toys sat out in the middle of the drive, practically touching the steps leading up to the front entrance. After passing by in order to approach the garage, I recognized it as the outlandish and overpriced piece of aluminum he had purchased at a car show in Los Angeles.

Having spent the last hour in the quiet, comfortable confines of the BMW, I promptly declared it to be, "Rubbish."

I left the poor, neglected piece of German engineering behind the garage in order to properly tend to it later in the morning, perhaps with the aide of Master Nathan and Miss Mattie. Using the service entrance, I smiled to see the small foyer was spotless, save for a pair of small sneakers that sat just under the empty coat rack. I removed my leather gloves after setting down my suitcase, then discarded my jacket, hat and scarf before hanging them on their accustomed hooks.

The kitchen was empty of life save for the coffee machine that had just begun percolating. When Ms. Selina and I had arranged for the room to be redone, I had given in to her demands of including updated appliances. Although I had read the manual for the device, I had no intentions of putting my knowledge of how to prepare semi-skimmed milk cappuccinos to use.

I expected my tour of the first floor to yield no one but to my pleasant surprise I came upon Miss Mattie and young Master Nathan in the entertainment den.

"Beg your pardon, but I'm afraid I won't be able to prepare breakfast without the aide of my sous-chef."

They had been sitting on the couch, Nathan leaning against his sister, but at my voice they had turned towards each other in order to look at me. Miss Mattie's face had been solemn but at the sight of me, she grinned and cried out my name.

Master Nathan's face had been solemn as well, in addition to being tear-stricken.

They both jumped up and ran over to greet me with tremendously powerful hugs, forcing me to take a step back upon impact. I set a hand on each of there shoulders, smiling as they declared how much they had missed me.

Miss Mattie, ever the detective, inquired, "When did you get back?"

"Not an hour ago… traffic was fairly miserable, even at this early hour."

It was then that I became aware of a vary large and very hairy presence in the room, intently staring at me from beside the couch.

Miss Mattie's brow rose, "Oh… Dad didn't tell you did he?"

"It must have slipped his mind…" I countered.

"That's Ace, Mom and Dad bought Nathan a dog because he learned to say his r's."

"Is this so, Master Nathan?"

The young boy looked up at me, nodding before speaking, "It is, Alfred."

"Well, in that case a breakfast feast is in order."

Miss Mattie's gaze followed mine and she stepped away from me, patting her thigh before saying softly, "Hier, Ace."

The massive dog rose, tail waving slowly behind him as he walked to the young woman and sat directly in front of her. She then took my hand and brought it to the dog's broad muzzle, "This is Alfred… We gave him some of your old clothes to smell, so he would kind of know you before you came home."

"Wonderful idea, my dear," I replied as the dog sniffed gently before turning back to Miss Mattie.

She roughed up the dog's neck fur before commanding him free, "Guden hund." As Miss Mattie remarked on how "cool" it was to learn words in German, the dog walked back to where he had originally been laying. Miss Mattie then resumed her interrogation, "Does anyone else know?"

Master Nathan continued to hug my leg as I rubbed his slender shoulders, "Of course not, I felt there were only two faces I wanted to see first, yours," I hesitated before slowly kneeling before the silently weeping child, "And yours… now, Master Nathan, please tell you're not crying on my behalf."

That only brought more tears before he lunged at me, pressing his face into the crook of my neck.

"Do tell, what has you bothered so?"

He did his best to hold back the tears and control his trembling lip but lost the battle in the end. Returning to his weeping, his older sister spoke on his behalf, "Dad yelled at him."

Knowing Master Nathan was a fairly rambunctious young child, of which combined with the stresses Master Bruce was already facing may lead to poor judgment, I inquired if it had been justified.

Miss Mattie shook her head, "No… He was in the city all night, I think something happened. You know."

"Ah,yes," I nodded, "And this incident happened upon his return?"

"Like ten minutes ago… Well, first, I woke up because Mom kept walking up and down the hall… she finally went downstairs but I decided I was up anyway so I went down as well, see if she wanted to have breakfast. Dad rushed in the front door, which was weird… then went to the study… I didn't eavesdrop, I just kind of heard what they were saying from the hall on my way to the kitchen… Mom sounded worried but Dad sounded mad… I didn't want Nate to come down and hear them fighting so I went back upstairs to keep him up there."

"Very good of you, my dear," I replied while rising, ushering Master Nathan back to the couch. Once I was seated, I brought him up onto my lap where he quickly hooked his arms back around my neck.

"Only he was already out of his room. He's been hiding lately, jumping out and trying to scare people… I was looking for him when Mom came upstairs… Dad was following her, they were both just yelling at one another, I couldn't understand what they were saying… something about shutting the house down and keeping things safe… As they passed my room, I cracked the door open just enough to try and hear them better…then Nate jumped out from behind that big oak table near where the nursery was…"

She bit her lip before proceeding, "Dad flipped out… grabbed Nate by his arms, started screaming at him for… I don't know, scaring him. Nate started crying and then Mom started yelling at Dad again…" tears began brimming in her icy eyes, "Alfred, what's happening?"

Leaving her to tend to her troubled younger sibling, I rose from the couch, declaring, "I shall find out at once."

I heard them long before I reached the third floor, muted shouts and growls in rapid fire succession. Reaching the double doors leading to the master bedroom, I gently tried the knobs, surprised that they were unlocked. Before entering, I listened intently in hopes of finding a reasonable excuse for Master Bruce's irrational and unacceptable behavior.

He yelled, "This isn't open for discussion---!"

"The hell it is, Bruce! If you think for one second that I'm going to let you---!" she snarled back.

"What, protect my children?! Jim and Maureen nearly died last night and they had Dick watching over them. Gotham is not safe, no matter where you are or who you are!"

"And locking us in the Cave is going to make it all better? Just how many times has he and any other one of your enemies broken in there? Mattie snuck out, for crying out loud, and no one had a clue until she was already in the god-damned city!"

"Damnit, Selina, you're not listening!"

"Sucks, doesn't it?"

The moment of opportunity presented itself.

Slamming open both doors, I bellowed, "Bruce Thomas Wayne! I will not tolerate another word in that tone of voice directed towards the mother of your children!"

Both stood near the bed, shock washing over them at my presence and no doubt the manner in which I announced it. Although red faced, Master Bruce quickly paled, his mouth agape, suddenly at a loss for words. The first task accomplished, I then proceeded, "Now, if you will excuse me, I will be downstairs tending to two very distraught, young children who are in need of a hearty breakfast. I highly recommend you do not venture from this room until your issues are resolved in a civilized manner."

Without another word, I about faced and exited the room, quietly closing the doors behind me.

Making my way down the stairs, I sighed heavily, thinking to myself, My dear Leslie, things were far worse than we had feared.

^V^

By Saturday afternoon, I was mentally and physically exhausted, running on my last nerve.

Like Dad always said, "Think with a clear head or don't think at all."

Going to the townhouse meant I would only fall asleep on the couch and suffer yet another dream of Huntress reaching out to me from the grave. Heading to the Clocktower was pointless since Barbara and Dick had been at the hospital with Sarah so she could see her parents. The Cave was out of the question after hearing through the grapevine that Bruce and Selina were at war. Staying at the Sat-Cave meant staring at useless bits of evidence that did anything but lead us to where the Joker was in hiding, leaving only one other option.

DJG Security had been the least of my concerns for months. Cass and Dick had at least made the effort to go in almost every day to help Will with the massive amount of work coming in, no doubt a direct result of the Joker attacks. I hadn't set foot in our business suite since the middle of March, and that had been to retrieve a back up charger for my cell phone. Dick had covered for me religiously, saying I was attending training seminars and working in the field rather than in the office.

Will's keen eye and intellect had once made him a top-notch detective in the NYPD.

From experience, detectives never lost their touch.

I had called Cass at the townhouse to check in with her before heading to Tri-Corner. She was watching Ethan for the day in addition to trying to get our house in order. The phone rang three times before the machine picked up and my voice recited, "Our answering machine is on vacation, but please feel free to leave your name, number and a brief message with our humidifier."

Every time my dad called to leave a message he had to fight back laughs in order to lecture me, "You really need to change that, Tim."

I simply stated, "Hey, it's just me, I'll try your cell---."

There was a click before, "Hey."

"Hey… just wanted to let you know I'm going to run over to the firm for a bit…"

"On a Saturday?" Cass asked as Ethan cackled and Robbie howled in the background.

"I… just need to clear my head… but I'll drop by before heading out for the night, maybe we can grab some dinner."

She snickered, no doubt at the antics going on in our usually quiet house, "Call first, I'll have it ready."

"Okay… and Cass?"

She hesitated before laughing, "Yeah?"

"I love you."

Another pause, she responded before hanging up, "Elephant shoe."

Even though it was midday, I was still in the Batsuit from the previous night. After peeling off the various pieces, I became all too aware of how foul I was. A warm shower, a quick shave and a fresh set of civilian clothes brought me partially back to life. I should have walked out the door right then, sneaking through the back alley to the cycle parked a block away, but I couldn't.

One more time…

Sitting back at the computer bay, I brought up the security footage from what the news had labeled as "the Texon Gas Station Massacre." Two employees and an unfortunate customer had been gunned down by the Joker. Initially, I had assumed he had done this after hitting the Gordon house but the time on the footage showed that he had actually been there first. Barbara and I had agreed that it was meant as a diversion for the police, not to mention the fact that he had put over eighty dollars worth of fuel in the Hummer.

Dragging in oxygen slowly, I then growled, "Computer, play footage."

The camera had been positioned just above the clerk's head, offering a perfect view of the store including the entrance. It was clear that a Hummer had pulled up to a nearby pump outside but the details of the people had been hazy at best. The lone customer and soon to be victim had entered the store, a mid-thirties African American male who had chatted with the two clerks, laughed heartily and bought a pack of cigarettes.

A minute and forty seconds later, the Joker had barged in, laughing hysterically as he emptied a few dozen rounds from the AK-47 in his hands. He then stepped over a twitching clerk, picked up a hand full of candy bars, two sodas from the counter side cooler and left a ten dollar bill on the counter. Although the footage didn't have audio, I was able to read his lips before he had turned to leave, "Keep the change."

Touring the Gordon residence had been futile, yielding nothing but one-hundred and fifty- nine bullets and casings, no prints, no fibers belonging to anyone aside from Jim, Maureen and Sarah. Kelsey had showed up just as I was about to leave, although I had opted to meet briefly rather than running out on her. Even without the Joker knowing our identities, targeting his former enemy's only son was more than plausible.

I had waited for Kelsey in the master bedroom, stepping out from the bathroom just as the detective she had been reaming out departed.

"Please tell me you have something," she had sighed.

"Witnesses."

Kelsey had turned to face me, "This is true… I've put patrol men at the DA's house… no doubt he'll be targeted as well…"

"And yourself?"

"If his green haired head comes within sight, I'll blow it off of his shoulders."

I had wanted to tell her that no one was safe around the Joker, whether they carried a gun or not, but had remained silent.

"I told Gordon's sister, the red head, that I would put a detail at her residence but she said it was unnecessary… Hell, I'll put a unit over there anyway."

"I doubt she'll be there, Commissioner."

Kelsey nodded again, "Of course… she'll be at the hospital…"

It was then we had simultaneously received the radio call about the Hummer, armed car theft and subsequent crash into the Kinko's. With her men already at the crash, I had chosen to respond to the Hummer prior to visiting the hospital. Although I had learned nothing useful from Jim and Maureen, finding the joke in the smashed purple vehicle had been the first chance we had been given at figuring out his next move. Previously, he had targeted random innocents but with Helena, Jim and Maureen, things had taken a very personal turn.

Although Jim was the son of a cop, it didn't make him the target.

Kelsey was the commissioner of police but if he was coming after the Family, only one other cop came to mind: Former Detective and decorated hero-cop, Richard John Grayson.

After spending the remainder of the evening on a wild goose chase, dawn broke over the city skyline just as Dick had informed us our greatest fears had come true. Instead of working together to formulate a plan of both defense and offense, Bruce had taken off without a word. I had gone after him, calling out his name but to no avail. When I had returned to the others, Barbara had already looked up the security settings of the Manor to see it was in lockdown with Selina, Mattie and Nathan safe and sound.

"Should I go after him?" I had asked.

Barbara had answered, "No… he… he needs to do what he thinks is best… same for all of us."

"Agreed," Dick had nodded, finally pulling off his mask, "Jim and Maureen will be taking Sarah back to Chicago as soon as he's clear to fly."

"For how long?" Cass had asked softly.

Barbara had reluctantly replied, "Forever… they can't stay here, not after what happened."

"Can't blame them," I had found myself commenting, "This city is unforgiving."

Shutting down the computer, I rose from the chair thinking to myself, This city is more than unforgiving… it was vindictive.

Midday weekend traffic made the twenty minute commute nearly twice as long. Pulling into our underground parking garage, I didn't see Will's gun metal gray Lexus RX. He had treated himself to the stylish sports utility vehicle after Dick had given him a handsome raise for all of his hard work.

Or maybe it had been a bribe.

Shortly after the Joker had killed the clerk, Dick had informed me that Will was aware something serious was going on. His suspicions had no doubt been fueled by my continued absence and Cass and Dick's half-hearted efforts.

Unlocking and entering the reception area, I thought back to speaking with Dick at the hospital. He had told Jim and Maureen the truth to protect them, claiming I had told my father and Dana for the very same reason. I had defended my actions by saying that Dad had suspected something where Jim and Maureen had no inclination.

Will had more than an inclination, he had a detective's intuition.

Just as I put the key into my severely neglected office door, I heard, "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

Putting a soft smile on my face, I turned to face Will, "Well, that's partially true… what if I had candy?"

He was leaning against the door frame of his office two doors down, dressed in jeans a long-sleeved rugby shirt. His left eyebrow rose slightly, "You have candy?"

"Hypothetical candy," I remarked.

He chuckled, "Hate hypothetical candy…. Tastes like crap." He approached me and extended his hand, "Good to see you, man."

"You, too," I replied as I shook his palm, "Didn't see your car downstairs."

"Girls have me going green… rode my bike… even tucked in my pants leg."

I smirked, trying to picture Will's stout frame on a bike. I then apologized, "Sorry I haven't been around, life's been kind of crazy lately."

"So I keep vaguely hearing about."

Jim Gordon and Dick Grayson trusted this man enough to let himm into their lives.

"Will…."

They had always been good judges of character.

"Yeah?"

The most recent people to have learned the identities of the Family were either dead or in the hospital.

"We need to talk."

At ten after five, Will and I locked up the firm, having accomplished little work in the entire afternoon we had spent together. As requested, I called Cass as I left the parking garage, asking if I needed to bring anything home for dinner, just as normal fiancés did. She was quick to report that she had already gone grocery shopping after Barbara and Dick picked up Ethan.

"Busy day," I commented, "Cleaning, shopping, cooking…"

"And laundry. Fourteen loads."

Entering Bryanttown, I asked what was on the menu.

"Surprise," she laughed, "Big surprise."

After we hung up, I realized that I hadn't heard her laugh since Helena had died.

I pulled into the driveway ten minutes later, shocked to see that the small gardens on either side of the front steps had been cleaned, weeded and bedded with fresh soil. Climbing the stone stairs two at a time, I began wondering how she had managed to accomplish four months worth of domestic duties in a single day. After our early morning meeting, she had gone home to take care of Robbie and get some rest, but still…

There's no way she could have done all of this… especially while babysitting the EGG-man.

"Cass?" I called out after stepping into the foyer, removing my coat before kicking my shoes off. The house looked as clean as it had been when we first moved in. The warm air was inundated with the aroma of culinary skill far beyond Cass's chicken wing dip.

"In the kitchen," she responded.

There was only one living soul that was able to resurrect a beautiful townhouse from its neglected state, prepare a first class meal and tend to a garden I had planned on growing dandelions in.

"Master Tim, how good of you to join us."

Cartoons exaggerated a character's shock by having its jaw drop to the floor.

Mine hovered just above the dark blue tiles.

"Alfred… What the… When did… How… Why…?"

"In due time, young sir. First order of business is a proper meal."

Cass walked over and kissed my cheek, my mouth still agape, "Lobster pot pie. Smells good, right? Going to walk Robbie, don't start without me."

I was frozen in place beneath the arched kitchen entrance, staring in sheer awe as Alfred pulled the hot, baked goodness from the oven, setting it to cool on the counter. After removing his oven mitts, he faced me once more, "I do hope you haven't ruined your appetite---."

He was unable to finish after I raced over, wrapping my arms around his slender figure while consciously forcing myself not to crush him in the embrace, "Alfred, you're really here…"

After I released him, he nodded, "Good to see your detective reasoning has yet to fail you, Master Tim."

"But… why?"

Alfred's eyes glanced away briefly as he retrieved a wash cloth and began wiping down the marble counter, "I had always intended to return for a visit."

"How long are you staying?" I asked, still trying to convince myself that he was standing before me rather than in Africa.

He hesitated, looking away again before responding, "For however long my services are required."

"Services... Aren't you on vacation?"

"I am afraid that much like yourself, young sir, my work is never done."

I leaned against the island counter before sighing, "You didn't pick the best time to come home, Alfred… Gotham's the last place anyone wants to be right now…"

"I beg to differ, sir."

"Did Cass tell you?"

He nodded curtly.

"Everything?"

"More than enough to convince me that my place is here, not Africa."

I watched on as he retrieved dishware for two, "You're not staying for dinner?"

"I'm afraid not, sir," he answered, rolling linen napkins into silver rings I couldn't remember buying.

"I take it you've been to the Manor already."

Alfred exhaled loudly before confirming, "Yes, this morning, shortly after Master Bruce returned from the Clocktower."

"So you were there when they started fighting?" He looked at me in confusion and I explained, "Barbara told me that Selina had called her, told her that she and Bruce had it out this morning after he got home."

"I was not present for the duration of the argument, but I saw to it that it ended."

If anyone could rein in Bruce, it was Alfred.

I wanted to ask what it had been about but I knew a gentleman's gentleman never offered such personal details of his employer's personal life, even if he was technically on vacation.

Like he had said, his work was never done.

^V^


	11. Now And Then: XI

Title: Now And Then: XI

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language, adult situations and violence.

Summary: Desperate acts call for desperate measures.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: I decided to feature POV's for two characters we haven't heard from yet, so apologies for any confusion. The first five POV's of this chapter take place between Alfred and Tim's POVs in the previous chapter and the last POV of this chapter takes place concurrently with Tim's from the previous chapter… you'll see, just read.

A/N 2: Wonder Pets is officially my favorite new kids show, and Ethan's as well. "What the what?" is a nod to 30 Rock. The quote Dick e-mails Will is from Gangs of New York. And my apologies, the cliffhanger… please, try not to think the worst.

^V^

Until that morning, nothing had scared me.

Spiders, bugs and snakes were too little to be frightened by.

I loved thunderstorms, almost as much as I loved fireworks and amusement rides.

Most of the kids in my class were terrified of heights and refused to climb into the reading loft of our classroom while I had wished it was even higher up.

The only time I had ever felt a little scared was when Alfred left for Africa on New Year's Eve. Even though I knew he was going to come back, I was still worried that I was never going to see him again. Writing letters and talking on the phone had helped and after two months I was fine with him being gone.

The day he came back, I had something new to be scared of.

My dad.

Since it had been Saturday, it was the first day of Easter Break, the first of nine days off of school. I had never gone to church in my entire life, so it translated as nine whole days I could spend with my family, the ones I lived with and the ones that lived in the city. The entire week wasn't planned out but I knew of three things that were going to happen.

First, Dick had promised to take me to lunch and to watch the Hudson U baseball team practice. Although not for sure, he was going to try and get us down on the playing field to see if we could join in for a bit. I had my glove and cleats ready to go, just in case.

Second, Dad was going to take me to work on a day that he wasn't too busy. Mom had said I had to dress up just like him, same colored shirt and pants and everything. I wouldn't have minded wearing my nice clothes if it meant I could sit at his desk all day. Maybe answer the phone when he wasn't looking…

Lastly, Mom was going to take me to the Preserve. As cool as it was going to be spending the day with Dad, it was hard to compare an office and a fancy computer with getting to feed and check on all sorts of big cats. I had been going up there for as long as I could remember, getting to pet the cubs or even the adults when they were tranquilized.

Even though I hadn't asked Tim and Cass yet if we could do something, I figured it was pretty hard to say no to such a cute kid. Every time Mom tried to turn me down about something, I always managed to convince her to change her mind, especially with a big cheesy grin showing off my missing front tooth.

For some reason, Dad had never been able to say no, but I guess it had made sense.

Who would say no to a tiger?

Being the first day of vacation, I had been too excited to sleep in. I had planned on spending the whole day with Dad, maybe even getting him to take us out to lunch, just us men. The second I had jumped from my bed, I had raced down the hall and found his and Mom's room empty, the covers only rumpled on her side. Dad always worked but lately he had been working even more, missing dinner and even bedtime. Since he hadn't gone to bed yet, I had figured he would have been on his way shortly.

There were only a handful of pieces of furniture in the hallway where my family slept. A few chairs, a couple of display cases and one large credenza. That's where Alfred had always kept extra linens, towels and bath robes that didn't fit in the closet at the end of the hall. It wasn't very tall but neither was I, making a perfect impromptu hiding spot.

Since Ace had taken to following me everywhere, I had locked him in my room so he wouldn't give me away. My next big threat had been Mattie but thankfully she had chosen to search my room before retreating to hers. It hadn't been long after that I heard my parents approaching, their voices reaching me from the stairs. Whenever they argued, they always did it when they were alone, stopping whenever Mattie or I stepped into the room.

From the sound of it, they needed someone to stop the fight for them.

"Rawr!" I had cried out, leaping from behind the credenza.

Whenever I tried to scare him, Dad would turn around while shaking his head, often saying, "You got me tiger," before seeking revenge through tickling or holding me upside down.

Instead, he had spun to face me, grabbing my arms roughly, all before I had even landed on the ground. I had seen him upset, sad, frustrated, cranky and tired but I had never seen the look that had been on his face before: angry.

If that hadn't been enough to scare me, he had yelled, "What the hell are you doing, you're supposed to be in your room!"

"I-I-I wanted to surprise you," I had managed, my eyes growing hot and wet.

Mom had stepped forward, grabbing Dad's hands off of me before ushering me away, "Let go of him, Bruce, he was just---."

Dad had interrupted her, "No, not after tonight, now there are no exceptions."

Somehow, I had kept my tears contained to that point. As they had begun slipping over my cheeks, I glanced back at Dad, stammering an apology before running to my room. I spent a good five minutes crying into Ace's neck before Mattie had come to take me downstairs. She had said it was to make breakfast but after stepping into hall and hearing the shouts from the master bedroom, I knew her real reason.

The silver lining of that horrible morning had been Alfred's surprise return home. Even though he had been gone for months, within minutes it was like he had been there all along. I had watched on as he and Mattie made breakfast, which had been the feast he had promised: pecan pancakes, turkey sausage, red skin potato hash and slices of honeydew and cantaloupe.

Since Alfred was home, he had been quick to chase us out of the kitchen so that he could clean up. As we walked into the corridor, Mattie had said she was going upstairs to see how things were and suggested I let Ace out for a bit.

"Stay on the terrace, I'll be back down…. No troublemaking."

I had been too full of food to do anything but sit, so troublemaking had been out of the question. After agreeing on a pinkie promise, I called out to Ace who had been intently studying Alfred in the kitchen. As he had slowly been introduced to our big family, he liked to study them, after a thorough sniffing over. He had been very interested in Dick's pants pocket the first time they had met, and he had joked, "Guess I'll have to start bringing treats for him, Frank already ate the ones I had on me…"

Within seconds, Ace had been at my side, waiting for me to tell him where we were going next.

Sitting on the stone steps leading from the terrace to the back lawn, I had thrown the ball for Ace a few dozen times, a majority of which he had managed to catch before they hit the dead grass. When he had dropped it between my feet once more, I had patted his head and told him, "Do you ever get tired?"

He had responded by nudging the ball towards me.

"One more," I had explained, "Then we're going in."

Ace had cocked his head slightly, having suddenly lost interest in the ball.

I had realized why when I had heard Dad say, "Better make it a good one then."

Rather than turn around, I had grabbed the ball and thrown it as hard as I could, but Ace didn't so much as blink. I had pointed to where the ball had settled, not far from where Mom's cat Isis was buried, and had said, "Brrring."

He had hesitated once more and then rose to retrieve the ball.

"Looks like you're ready for the baseball diamond at Hudson University…" he had offered as he sat down on the step beside me.

With my father's shadow covering me, I had kept my eyes on Ace as he began trotting back with the ball. Even though boys my age were always smaller than their fathers, I was that much smaller since he was that much bigger. He had come to Parent's Day last fall and had to stand in the back because he was too tall and too big for the desks. Since he had been sitting on the same step as me, the top of my head didn't even reach his shoulder.

After Ace had sat in front of me, leaving the soggy ball at my feet, I had reached out and scratched the top of his head.

Finally, Dad had started, "I came down here to apologize… for… yelling at you… but now I realize that I can't. There is no excuse I can give you and no reason for you to forgive me."

I had almost looked up at him. Almost.

"Nathan, I can't take back what I did, but I can try to explain."

Ace had settled his head into my lap and I traced a finger over his braided leather collar.

"I… just had this talk with your sister… trying to explain why I had done something I shouldn't have…"

"Did you yell at her, too?" I had asked quietly, my eyes on my dog's upright ears.

He had cleared his throat before answering, "No… I had… yelled at Dick, blaming him for something that wasn't his fault."

"What?"

When he hadn't responded, I finally looked up at him, sort of happy to see he was no longer angry but just sad. He had reached out and roughed up the fur on Ace's thick neck, "It doesn't matter… what matters is that I've been trying to hide my fear by being angry with people I care about. Dick, Mattie, Mom… and you, tiger."

"But you're not scared of anything," I had said aloud.

He had shifted in order to face me, "Everyone is afraid of something. Even me."

"What are you scared of?"

Dad had paused before replying, "Not what… who."

"Is it Alfred?" I had joked, knowing he was the person Dad had known the longest.

Dad had smirked briefly before shaking his head, "Alfred can certainly scare me, but no, it's not him." He had picked the ball up and handed it to me, and after I tossed it for Ace, he had proceeded, "We haven't kept up on the story of the dark knight, have we?"

I had shrugged, "I guess not…"

"Where did we leave off?"

Thinking back, I had bit my lower lip before responding, "I think it was that the dark knight was giving the squire his armor, so that he could be the new dark knight."

Dad had nodded slowly as his eyes fell to his feet, "Nathan, there's a reason why I've been telling you that story, it's very important to this Family."

"Is it like a tradition? Tony in school said his grandma always tells him the story about Winkin, Blinkin and Nod when he sleeps at her house."

"It's more than a tradition," he had explained, "It's history."

Terry's dad taught classes at a college about knights and kings and all of that. It was history but it was so long ago that no one really talked about it unless they were in a classroom. Even though I had been confused and wanted to ask my father to explain, I had waited.

Finally, "Do you remember the beginning of the story, Nate?"

"The young prince… he was sad that the king and queen were killed."

"And do you remember what he did next?"

I had nodded as I thought back to the night before Alfred left, when he had started the story. Seemed like forever ago, but I had still been able to remember every word, "He wanted to be the best knight there was, that way he could keep his kingdom safe."

"That's right," he had glanced to me again, "And you remember the jester, how he's always fought with the dark knight?" After I had nodded, he had continued, "For as long as the young king was the dark knight, the jester wanted nothing more than to hurt him, anyway he could. But the jester didn't know who the dark knight really was… if he had known, he would have come after his family…. Hurting him by hurting them. And that's why I'm afraid, Nathan."

"It's just a story, Dad, you don't have to be scared of a story."

His eyes had closed for a moment, "It's not just a story. The young prince that lost his parents… that grew up to be king and the dark knight… It's not just some character in a fairy tale… It's me."

^V^

Never in my years of service for the Wayne family had I intentionally eavesdropped.

When, and if it had occurred, it was simply happenstance.

Upon tidying up the kitchen, I intended to take a private moment to telephone Leslie in order to bring her up to speed on the events that had occurred in our absence. Passing into the corridor, I turned to the right in order to seek out the elevator. Having flown throughout the night, in addition to a treacherous time zone difference, I had no faith that my legs would be able to carry me to my quarters.

Aside from reaching domestic order and balance in Wayne Manor, I would no doubt procure a number of other similar responsibilities throughout Gotham City and my distraught Family. If Master Bruce, who never allowed his emotions take charge of his actions, had taken to yelling at his youngest son, who knows what depths his protégés had fallen to…

Opening the glossy oak door that concealed the gilded elevator car, I heard a pair of heavy, determined footsteps. Pausing, I slowly turned to find they belonged to my eldest charge, "Master Bruce… I take it the situation on the third floor have been diluted."

He stopped before me, threw an angry glare and then responded, "Where's Nathan?"

"The terrace, sir, attending to his dog."

He glanced further down the hall towards a pair of glass French doors before continuing, "After I talk to him, I need to talk to you." Without another word and without looking to me, he strode by, clenching and unclenching his fists.

My telephone call to Leslie would have to wait.

I waited until I heard the terrace doors open and close before abandoning my original course to follow that of Master Bruce's. Looking through glass doors I had cleaned countless times, I watched on as father and son sat beside one another on the steps. With their backs to me, it was impossible to read their lips in order to follow the conversation. Luckily, their body language was far easier to follow with slumped shoulders, bowed heads and heavy sighs.

It was as Master Nathan looked up at his father, a look of disbelief washing over his young features that I realized the conversation was no longer apologetic and regretful. When the boy leapt to his feet, I was taken a back, further confused when he began jumping around the stone terrace, followed by a violent tackle on his unsuspecting father.

Deciding it was best not to pry visually, I stepped away from the double doors in order to inspect a smudge on the nearest window sill. I tended to it with my handkerchief, taking mental note that the entire Manor would need a thorough going over, despite the valiant efforts of the interim caretaker. Purely accidental, I unlocked the window and raised it slowly, letting in cool Spring air.

Master Bruce's voice just so happened to flow into the spacious atrium as well, "--- and Mattie knows, as well."

"Why am I the only one who didn't know the secret?"

"This isn't just a secret, Nathan. If you tell a secret, you can hurt someone's feelings… but this can actually hurt people…"

"How?"

Master Bruce hesitated before responding, "It's exactly like I said about the jester…"

Master Nathan's voice was light with a laugh, "The Joker, you mean."

"Right, but the jester from the story… since he first fought the dark knight, he wanted nothing more than to hurt him, any way he could."

"You said… he'd hurt the dark knight… by hurting other people."

"By hurting his family, Nathan." A moment of silence lapsed before Master Bruce continued, "Hey, look at me… Look at me, Nathan… Come here… He's not going to get the chance. I won't let him… Neither will Ace."

A series of sniffles followed and then a soft, muffled voice.

Footfalls that moments earlier had been fueled by anger suddenly approached, considerably slower and softer. At the sound of a door opening, I promptly closed the window and quickly took five strides away from the entrance. Before it closed, I about faced and began to slowly make my way back.

Upon arriving at the atrium, Master Bruce caught me in his peripheral vision and waited for me. As expected, Master Nathan was in his embrace, arms wrapped around his father's neck. Head turned away from me, the young boy spoke softly, "Hier, Ace."

The massive dog trotted through the door and moved to sit in front of Master Bruce. After kissing his son's brow, Master Bruce set the boy down beside the dog, "Why don't you go upstairs, wash up and change… I have some things to take care of but after, we'll go down."

After spinning around, Master Nathan looked up with a smile on his face, "Promise?"

"I promise."

When he turned to leave, the boy spotted me and grinned as he announced, "Alfred… this is the best vacation ever!" He ran to me, hugged my legs and then raced down the hall calling out unintelligibly, the dog not a foot behind him.

I waited until the hall went silent before saying, "Sir, I---."

"The study," he interrupted before glancing over.

"Very good, sir."

As Ace had taken after his master, I had done the same, moving swiftly down the corridor and passing the base of the stairs. Entering the hall that ended at the pool room, we finally arrived at the study's entrance. Closing the door behind me, I was not surprised to see Master Bruce had navigated across the room to stand before the fireplace, or rather to stand before the oil painting of his parents that was above the fireplace. Where most individuals visited gravesites to seek peace, Master Bruce had always resorted to looking upon their eternally smiling faces.

Finally, he whispered, "I should have never told her."

Stepping forward, suppressing apprehension, I inquired, "Miss Mattie, sir?"

He glanced over his shoulder as I paused beside him, "No... Selina."

"I beg your pardon, sir?" I asked, the volume of my voice falling to match his.

Master Bruce's gaze returned to the oil portrait, "If I had never told her the truth… she would have left me after one too many late nights, waiting for me or being stood up… As for Catwoman, after Pasqualle… Dick would have told her I was dead… she would have moved on… she never would have gotten pregnant, we never would have been married… She and the children would have never become a target for---."

Given that I both honored Leslie's life of pacifism and abhorred the intense violence my charges utilized, I typically found myself walking a narrow line between the two extremes. If my life or the lives of those I cared for were in danger, I was more than willing to defend them to best of my abilities, including my formidable marksmanship.

Also included in my repertoire of necessary force was a good, closed hand slap to the face.

Thankfully, Master Bruce was too distracted by his own self-loathing to see it coming.

"Alfred, what the---!" he exclaimed, turning to face me squarely.

After righting my sweater, I nodded curtly, "My sincere apologies, Master Bruce, but from what I have heard over the last few weeks, someone needed to slap some sense into you." When he didn't respond, I proceeded, "Now, anymore talk of a life where your daughter and your son are not in existence, I will be forced to fetch my heavy rings. Is that understood?"

He nodded, although I was unsure if the stunned look on his face was a result of the blow or of my words.

"Now, let's have it from the beginning then," I proceeded, my tone a combination of stern and sympathetic.

In not so many words, Master Bruce revisited the death and funeral of Ms. Bertinelli, the fights he had been instigating with his Family and the fear of being discovered by the Joker realized in the attack on the Gordon family. Although at first he had vented whilst pacing the room, he finally took a seat in one of the stuffed leather arm chairs as he sighed, "He would have kidnapped Sarah if…"

"Sir?"

"If Dick and Barbara hadn't told Jim and Maureen the truth… they boosted up the security, not that it helped… but linked the system to the Oracom… the second the Joker drove onto the front lawn Dick was alerted… Made it there just in time."

Knowing the strained relationship he and his eldest had been enduring for the last week and perhaps even longer than that, I offered, "A great relief to us all."

There was a moment of silence before Master Bruce confessed, "I had to tell Nathan, Alfred… he's getting too close… I couldn't live with myself if something happened and he didn't know."

Stepping toward him, I countered, "And what would you foresee happening that would prevent you from revealing your dark secret in five years time?"

His eyes found mine, "Huntress was just the beginning… Jim and Maureen... They were just a pawn, to unnerve us…"

"Apparently, he was successful," I spoke, clarifying after his gaze turned angry, "In unnerving you, sir." After taking a seat in the adjacent chair, I continued, "When I left for Africa, I had never seen you happier, sir. The only argument you would have held with your wife would have been how late Master Nathan was allowed to stay up on a weekend. You had just become a grandfather, a feat neither of us could have foreseen, thus bringing new light to your relationship with your eldest son… And upon returning four months later, you've taken to assaulting Master Dick, bellowing at your wife and frightening Master Nathan to the point of tears."

Master Bruce sighed heavily as his eyes closed.

"As I have, since that first horrid night of crime fighting, I wish to lend you my support and my wisdom."

"And what wisdom is that, Alfred?" he asked, his voice returning to a whisper.

"Continue on this manner of discourse… and the Joker wins."

^V^

It wasn't supposed to come to this…

Upon Bruce's return from the city that morning, I had realized that nothing was going to be the same. This was due, in part, that in less than five minutes he had practically told me I no longer had any input in the safety of my children, followed swiftly by yelling at our son and then telling me I needed to pack for the Watchtower. To make matters even more surreal, Alfred had barged into the master bedroom, commanding and end to the argument before vanishing into the hall.

It had to have been a nightmare.

Apparently, Alfred had been a figment of my imagination since Bruce was quick to start things back up again, "I'm going downstairs to talk to them---."

"Using the same tone as you are now, I don't think so," I snapped back walking towards my side of the bed.

"Selina, listen, I know it seems extreme," he started to follow me, "But the fact remains… Jim and Maureen are in the hospital and---."

I spun around, "Exactly, Bruce, they're in the hospital. In most cases, that traumatic of a fact puts things in perspective for a person, but obviously not for you."

"It has put things in perspective, damnit! It means that even under protection, no one in this Family is safe! Not as long as they are in Gotham!"

Even if we had been wearing masks and fighting on a rooftop, I still wouldn't have tolerated the Bat-roar, so there had been no reason to accept in my bedroom. Given that he had been ignoring the icy glare I had been giving him since he had first raised his voice at me in the study, I had to find a different approach.

Quietly, I had faced the bed, adjusting the blankets where I had disturbed them in my fitful night's sleep. Fluffing the pillows, I had said, "You need to apologize to Nathan. Then you need to talk to Alfred. Then… you can talk to me."

I had heard him take a step forward, leaving less than a foot between us, "Selina---."

"Now, Bruce."

His hand had settled on my upper arm, "I'm not through---."

"Now!" I had growled, spinning around, smashing my elbow into his forearm in order to force his hand off of me. While he had grabbed the arm that just struck him, his other had come up to block the next blow, a hook meant for his ear. Before I had to resort to dirty fighting, Bruce had stepped back without a word, releasing me before he turning for the door.

As it had shut behind him, I had sat heavily on the bed and buried my face in my hands.

It wasn't supposed to come to this…

After regaining some composure, I retrieved the bedside phone and dialed Barbara's cell phone, relieved when she answered after the third ring.

She greeted me with a tired, "Has he gone ballistic, yet?"

"Before he even walked in the door," I answered.

Barbara paused then explained, "We were meeting at the Clocktower, Dick replayed what had happened and then confirmed that the Joker knew who he was… Bruce just snapped, ran out of the apartment and drove off."

Reclining onto the bed, I responded with, "Sounds about right… when he got home, I couldn't tell if he was more terrified or furious… he bit my head off for trying to bring reason back into the argument… thankfully, we had a referee."

"Who, Mattie?"

"No… A certain gentleman's gentleman determined exactly when he needed to return home."

"Alfred? You're kidding me… Well, I don't here growling or things breaking in the background, so he must have done his duty."

"Not yet… I sent Bruce downstairs to have a much needed heart-to-heart…if that doesn't work, I'll just shove him out the third floor window."

I heard tapping on her end, no doubt looking up flight records to hunt down Alfred's course, "He's not you, he won't land on his feet."

"I'm counting on him landing on his head…" I replied as the notebook computer on Bruce's nightstand began chirping. Rolling over to his side, I pulled it onto the mattress and opened it, "Hey, random thought, you wouldn't happen to know Bruce's password for that little laptop he has, the mini Bat-computer.."

"Why?"

"It's beeping…"

She hesitated, and then inquired, "Any other alarms in the house?"

I held my breath, the Manor greeting with me with complete silence, "No… and Bruce hasn't barged into the room yet…"

"Ah here, it is, 'schutzhund' all lower case… he's really getting into this dog thing, isn't he?"

After typing it in, the monitor brought up several windows declaring there had been several sensors tripped in the last five minutes, each with motion activated cameras recording the incidents. The first had been Nathan and Ace going out to the rear terrace, followed shortly by Bruce. I watched on to the silent father and son talk as Barbara asked, "Well, do I need to call in the JLA?"

"Hold that thought," I answered moving onto the next flashing image. Alfred had apparently showed interest in the conversation, as he had opened the window overlooking the terrace, closing it the second Bruce and Nathan rose to their feet. "Still in the clear."

The last window featured neither Bruce, Nathan or Alfred.

Watching the footage of Mattie helping Terry in through her bedroom window, I grinned, "Looks like we're still safe… Give Jim and Maureen my best… If you need anything, need someone to watch Sarah or Ethan, you call me."

"I will."

After hitting the end button, I set the phone on the bed and logged off of the computer. As the screen went dark, I caught part of my reflection on the screen, in addition to Bruce's.

"That doesn't belong to you."

After putting the computer back, I sat up to face him, "You've been saying that for years."

He looked to the door he had just silently entered, "Of all the times Mattie needs to---."

"Leave Mattie alone. Give her a few hours of normalcy before you turn her world upside down."

"It's a breach, she found a way to sneak him in---."

"She also found a way to sneak into Gotham City wearing black and purple Nomex."

"It's careless," he countered.

"It's resilience," I protested. After he sat on the bed, I asked, "Did you do as I asked?"

He nodded.

"Good… then you can talk to me, now."

"We're not going to the Watchtower. It's a hasty move, brash at best… Alfred had a point, letting the Joker's actions force mine to be erratic… it allows him to win… Running away isn't an option… He's gone too far this time… and he's only going to go further."

"What are we going to do?"

"Not we... I. I'm moving to the penthouse… I'll make an ordeal of it, drunk, belligerent, kicked out of my own mansion…"

"Bruce, no---," I reached for his hand and surprisingly, he gave it to me.

"You have to trust me," he interjected. After I nodded, he proceeded, "I meant… Bruce Wayne will be moving into the penthouse, drunk and belligerent…"

"Don't talk about yourself in the third person…and what if the tabloids get wind of this? It will be all over the news…"

"Exactly. The Joker will think he's started to push me over the edge, his goal of destroying me being realized… I'll make a much easier target if he thinks I'm alone in the penthouse…"

"And if he comes after us while we're here alone?"

"You won't be… After I've moved in, I'll use the tunnel to get back to the Cave. If he chooses to attack the penthouse, it will lock him in. If he attacks the Manor, I'll be waiting for him."

"What if he's not coming after you?"

He released my hand, "He is, I know it."

When his gaze returned to the door, I moved over and grabbed his chin, "Don't you even dare…"

"Selina, it's only right that I---."

I pinched his lips shut, "Platz."

His brow furrowed at the German command for lie down.

When I repeated it, he obeyed, reclining onto his back. I added, "Bleib," ordering him to stay.

"Selina, I don't have time for this," he said the moment my fingers left his lips.

"Nein," I reprimanded him before moving on top of him.

"Selina, I---."

After smacking him in the forehead, I reiterated, "Nein!"

That seemed to do the trick. That and the fact that his lips were no longer being held in my fingertips, but rather my incisors.

Despite the fact that an hour earlier we had been figuratively at each others' throats, we had taken to carrying out the phrase in a literal sense. He had grabbed me earlier out of frustration and anger but he was holding my arms as a means of keeping me pressed close to him. He released me long enough to drop his wrinkled jeans, giving me enough time to match my efforts with the running pants I had worn to bed. There was a part of me that had yelled that it was an opportune moment to just get up and walk away, leave him suffering for his earlier behavior.

That voice silenced itself real quick.

At one point, I heard him growl, "So ist brav," which was a praise given for good work.

Still laying on top of him, I felt his hands release my arms. One moved to settle on my lower back while the other found it's way to the back of my head, "Are we okay?"

"Yes," I answered as I pushed myself up to look at his face, "Now get out of my house, you belligerent drunk."

^V^

"This is a really, really, really bad idea."

"And why's that?"

Getting to his feet, Terry looked over to my closed bedroom door, "Because on the phone you said your dad was really mad… and I just broke into your bedroom… those two factors combined…"

"I told you, I don't care what he thinks, not anymore."

"You may not, my skeletal system does."

I guess he had a point…

After leaving Nathan to check on the happenings upstairs, I had found the third floor to be quiet and still. Carefully, I had pressed my ear to one of the doors of the master bedroom, not surprised to hear them still fighting albeit at a much lower volume. I had been caught off guard as my father's footsteps approached the door, forcing me to make a hasty getaway. I had barely made it to my room before he had opened the door to his.

It didn't take the daughter of a world-class detective to realize he was on his way down to try and make amends.

Opting to stay in my room, I made an attempt at meditating in order to try and find comfort. Cass had always said that the best way to move forward was to sit still. Even as my vitals slowed with rhythmic breathing, I couldn't get my mind to settle on any level. I kept seeing my dad grab Nathan, yelling at my mother or him punching Dick…

The real him.

Giving up, I rose to my feet, crossing the room to my bedside table. After grabbing my cell phone, I punched the speed dial for the fourth number. Since it was the first day of vacation and it wasn't even seven in the morning, I was greeted by, "Wayne… go to bed."

I smiled sadly as I sat on the bed, "Early bird gets the worm."

After fighting a yawn, Terry had replied, "Then the early bird gets hit by a school bus…"

"Can you come over?"

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

"I thought you were grounded still," he replied, sounding more awake.

Without hesitation, I stated, "I don't care… not anymore."

"Mattie… what's going on?"

In little detail, I had explained that my parents were fighting and that my dad was angry at everyone. When he had tried to comfort me by saying that they were probably fighting over something stupid, I had countered, with, "It's bad, Terry… Alfred came home."

"Damn… I'll be right there."

"Wait… you're going to have to sneak in…"

He had paused, "Uh, sneak in how?"

After detailing a way in down the service driveway, climbing and then jumping from the low branch that curved like a y over the wrought iron fence, I had finished with, "And then walk along the fence until you get to the big fir tree, then you can walk straight towards the house, and you can climb up using the---."

"I'm sorry, you must have me confused with James Bond."

Sighing, I had replied, "Fine, I'll meet you at the oak tree."

After escorting him from the fence and forcing him to climb the ivy grate that scaled the outside of the manor below my bedroom, he was barely able to pull himself up into my window. As he landed on the carpet, face first, he gasped, "All right… that's it… we're breaking up… Or you're moving to the first floor…"

"Is that an ultimatum, Miller?"

While he shook his head, he had answered, "Sorry… oxygen deprived humor."

Once he was on his feet, I lead the way into the sitting room, sitting slowly while he collapsed on the couch beside me, "So."

"So," I echoed.

"Want to talk about your---."

Drawing my legs up underneath me, I shook my head, "No, no I don't."

"Then… why did you---."

"Can I tell you something? Something you can't tell anyone?"

"Something you couldn't tell me over the phone?"

After smacking him in the face with a pillow, I proceeded, "Yes, something I couldn't tell you over the phone."

"Should I have brought a helmet?" he asked, already bring up his arms to defend another blow. Although he had done fairly well in training sessions with Cass, he hadn't been able to practice with her in months. When I set the pillow back down, he dropped the block, "Okay, consider my ears lent."

"The reason I was grounded was because I ran away from home."

"What?"

I shrugged, "I know, it was stupid… but… I wanted to feel l what it was like… being on my own. Being alone…"

"No wonder your dad is angry…" he remarked while picking up a wii remote off the glass coffee table.

"That's not why he's angry."

"Then why?" he inquired.

I had known Terry since I had been six years old and among all of my friends, he was the only one I trusted thoroughly.

But he wasn't Family.

"Never mind…" I fetched a stick as well, "Let's just play Mario and Sonic Olympics."

"Hold up, Juliet, Romeo just didn't climb the wall to make Waluigi rock the épée, I could have easily done that at home."

"Who says you're going to rock the épée?"

Raising one eyebrow, he asked, "Is that a threat?"

"That's fact," I smirked back.

"Épée this!" he declared before grabbing the pillow I had struck him with, smashing it into my face.

As I ripped it away from him, he was already onto his next move, pushing us off of the couch and onto the floor, recovering quick enough to sit on my thighs in order to keep me down. I could have easily disengaged him with a series of sharp jabs to his throat, chest and abdomen but I decided to let him have a small victory.

He drove fingers into my sides, finding long since memorized ticklish spots, forcing me to erupt into shrill giggles. As tears began to grow in my eyes, he leaned over and asked, "Who's the best at épée?"

"No… never," I managed.

"Say it!" he laughed, his fingers unrelenting.

"Okay," I gave in, "Waluigi!"

"Waluigi what?" he grinned, his face inches from mine.

"Waluigi… is the best… at épée…" my breath had become as ragged as Terry's had been earlier.

"And don't you forget it," he said victoriously, still leaning over me.

I blamed it on the last ninety-six seconds of being tickled to death or that Terry had truly been a Romeo, scaling a wall to rescue his Juliet from misery. Whatever it was, I forgot that my father had lost his mind and that Helena Bertinelli was dead and that the Joker was still out there on a murderous rampage.

All I cared about was leaning forward and kissing Terry on the lips.

And him kissing me back.

Even though we were technically boyfriend and girlfriend, we rarely did anything that would fall under such titles. We had slow danced at school events a few times, held hands in the halls and shared bottles of water in gym but other than that we had pretty much stayed the same, just Mattie and Terry.

In middle school I knew of eleven girls that had already gone to third base with more than one guy. At least half had gone all the way.

It was stupid of them, that I had no doubt, but I couldn't help but envy the ones that had decided to get intimate with their significant others. Piper bragged constantly about all of the things she had done with Marc, a boy that had once had a crush on me. She always mocked me for not even so much as French kissing Terry but I always managed to ignore her taunts.

"Why do you care what we do?" I had once retorted.

She had shrugged, "I don't know… I guess… I just want to make sure you're not missing out."

As my tongue touched his for the first time, I thought that as wrong as Piper was about most things, she had been right about one. I had been missing out.

Terry pulled away, his face nearly as flushed as my own, "Whoa."

"Yeah," I replied although I was uncertain as to why.

"Um… So… uh…" he panted softly, "My goal for vacation… was to beat Assassin Creed II."

"And now?"

His hands had taken to supporting his weight, resting either side of my head on the floor, "Uh, well… I think I'm going to have to get better… at climbing that wall."

^V^

With thirty individual booths, free parking and a sound proof spectator viewing lounge, the East River Gun Club was one of the busiest shooting ranges in Gotham City. Having been in operation for more than thirty years, it was a popular destination for both officers of the GCPD and the better civilian shots. On any given Saturday, it was packed form the time it opened at ten in the morning until they closed at eleven at night.

I had called at eight-thirty on Saturday morning.

"I'm sorry, sir but our hours of operation are---."

"I know what they are… Listen is John there?"

"He's in his office, sir."

"I'd like to speak with him."

"Sir, I---."

"I promise, you won't get in trouble, tell him it's Dick Grayson."

While I was on hold, I grinned brilliantly as Ethan toddled over, keeping one hand on the padded coffee table. Once he was close enough, he took one free step before latching on to my knees. Leaning over, I kissed both of his cheeks and went in to give him a good zubert on the neck.

Then a gruff voice greeted me on the other end of the line, "Grayson, damn, I hope old Harry wasn't giving you a hard time."

"No, not at all… just doing his job."

"For once," he laughed, "I can't think of the last time I heard your vice… I'd say I couldn't think of the last time I saw you but you always seem to be int eh paper."

"Just doing my job."

"And then some… So what can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if I could come in before you opened… me and the missus wanted to release some fury on some blank faced bad guys."

"For the hero cop and Gordon's daughter, anything."

While still a member of the Bludhaven Police Department, I had kept up the appearance of a normal young cop by going to the gun range at least once a week. Although I had perfect marksmanship, I flubbed every once in a while to keep prying eyes away. Unfortunately, I couldn't thank my training in the academy, it was all thanks to Bruce.

In my training as Robin, one of the most surprising and perhaps perverse skills I had to perfect was gun use. Having his parents die by gunfire, Bruce had branded into my brain that guns were not to be feared, but respected. In either the right or wrong hands, they were capable of terrible things and it had been our job to understand all weapons that our enemies would use against us.

If I had only known then what I had been capable of with a gun in my hands…

"I appreciate it, John, and I'll be sure to pay for your troubles."

"Nonsense, if it wasn't enough that it's you, your firm did a bang-up job on my brother's business in the Village… The guy that came out was a detective from New York…"

"Will, yeah he's the best… puts the rest of us to shame."

"Yeah, Will… any rate your money's no good here, Grayson… I'll have Harry set up a booth for you, be ready whenever you are."

"Much appreciated, John," I thanked him as Ethan began to trek back to his red plastic boat laying on the carpet. Upon hanging up the phone, I fell to my hands and knees to pursue him as I sang, "The phone, the phone is ringing!"

He looked over at me and laughed, bouncing up and down with delight. In recent weeks, he had given up his love for Franklin the Turtle in exchange for the far more entertaining and engrossing show The Wonder Pets. Beneath it's adorable animal superheroes were themes of sharing, teamwork and community responsibility.

I just loved it because the guinea pig wore an orange baseball cap.

As I closed in on him, I continued, "The phone, we'll be right there! The phone, the phone is ringing!"

Ethan started shaking his little bottom hard enough to cause his head to shake as well.

"There's an animal in trouble… There's an animal in trouble…" I paused before tackling him gently. Grabbing onto his sides, I rolled onto my back, lifting him above me, "There's an animal in trouble somewhere!"

As he fell into hysterical toddler giggles, I heard Barbara's voice, "And to think I just got that song out of my head."

Sitting up and pulling Ethan to my chest, I spotted her at the open archway, "Oh come, on… I know you have it as the ring tone for the vet's office."

As if he actually understood the words, Frank woke from his coma on the ottoman on the far side of the coffee table and scampered out of the room.

After our Clocktower meeting that morning, Barbara and I had been back to the hospital to bring Maureen an edible breakfast and to visit briefly and then trekked home in order to relieve Cassandra of babysitting duty. Her Bat-beau had spent the morning trying to make sense of the Joker's barely successful getaway, but had yet to figure where they had ended up. An early morning phone call from Selina had reported that Wayne Manor was still standing although Bruce was on the war path, as expected.

Had the Joker not botched his getaway, I would have been able to finally talk to him about what had happened after Helena's death. I was still uncertain as to whether or not it had been a blessing in pasty white disguise. Given his hasty departure and argument with his wife, I would have to let the sleeping dog lie for a bit longer.

"Sarah up yet?"

Barbara shook her head as she approached us, "After being up so late, I doubt she'll be up by ten. Jim says when goes to sleep that late, she's like a teenager, barely gets up in time for lunch."

Making a number of faces at Ethan, I commented, "Guess it's a good sign, her doing her normal thing."

"Yeah…" she agreed softly, "Tim called, wanted to know when we were going back to the hospital… said he wanted to make a proper visit."

I shrugged as I set Ethan down next to the Wonder Pets sail boat, "Well, John said he was ready whenever we were…. Was Cass coming up to watch the G-kids?"

Barbara shook her head, "She said she was free for the rest of the day… And when we go back to the hospital I want to take Sarah with us… but for the morning, I found someone else."

"Who, Selina?"

She smirked, "You'll have to wait and see."

Rising to my feet, I countered, "You know I hate surprises that don't involve cake, presents or underwear."

"Oh, you'll like this one. Now _you _get dressed while I get _him _dressed," she pointed to Ethan as he tried to fit the plastic characters into the boat.

Opting for comfort after a sleepless night, I found a pair of jeans I had worn two days earlier and matched it with a clean charcoal fitted tee shirt. After brushing my teeth and running wet hands through my short hair, I emerged from the bathroom, "This babysitter better have some sort of combat training to be as good as Cass."

Stepping into the den, my jaw dropped as Alfred replied, "Fear not, Master Dick, where I lack in Ms. Cassandra's skill, I make up for in stealth."

"What the what?!" I declared, literally dumbfounded at the sight before me. Thirty-six hours earlier, Alfred Pennyworth had been slumming it up in Sierra Leone. The very thought of him sneaking into Gotham under our radar was practically inconceivable.

Then again, he was Alfred…

Although I, above anyone in our Family, chose to express myself with words over actions, I felt the only way to demonstrate the thoughts coursing my ragged brain was with a monstrous hug. Barely giving him enough room to breathe, I grasped Alfred tightly, unable to say anything. His leaving on New Year's Eve had been one of the most difficult things I had to bear witness in my adult life, right up there with seeing Bruce recover from amnesia, losing Jim Gordon to cancer and seeing Helena Bertinelli put to premature rest.

Alfred's unannounced return suddenly brought light to the darkness that had become my life, as if his being there was going to make everything all right.

It had worked when I was eleven, there was no reason it wouldn't work when I was thirty-five.

Finally, I managed, "You came back."

While patting my back, he offered, "In the nick of time, as they say… Now, there will be plenty of time to chat later… you must be off to your appointment."

Releasing him, I looked to Barbara before replying, "It's not … an appointment, Al…"

"As far as I am concerned it is nothing more than an impromptu engagement in the Upper East Side."

Shaking my head, I responded, "And when I get back from this engagement, you have some explaining to do, Mr. Pennyworth."

"Looking forward to it, sir."

I couldn't help but hug him again, just to be sure he was really home. As Barbara gave him an unnecessary run-down of toddler taming, I excused myself back to the master bedroom. Opening the walk-in closet, I pushed back my dress shirts, slacks and suits in order to access an in-wall safe. After entering a ten digit code into the panel, I pressed my palm against a small glossy surface, watching as it flashed green before disengaging.

Within the small safe rested personal documents, certificates, twenty grand in hundred dollar bills and three black handgun cases, stacked on top of one another. The bottom held my last service weapon from Bludhaven, the middle had been Jim Gordon's Sig Sauer and on top was the first weapon I had ever holstered the BPD: a 9mm Smith & Wesson. Taking the top two cases, I left the bottom where it had been since I had moved in with Barbara. Since the day I had gunned down that bank robber, I hadn't been able to bring myself to even open the case.

And never would.

The eastbound traffic was hellish as commuters and visitors flooded the city for shopping and entertainment ventures alike. Barbara had taken the wheel, emitting a number of colorful words at some of her less saintly fellow drivers. I waited until she was parked and the ignition was cut before asking, "Babs… if you don't want to do this---."

"Funny," she sat back, "I was just about to say the same thing to you… You don't have to do this, Dick… I do."

I undid my seatbelt, "Well, damned if I let you go in there alone… smoking hot redhead with a gun… you'll have every creep in a six block radius hounding after you.. including me…"

"Dick, I'm not joking. You can stay if you---."

I leaned over and kissed her cheek, "I told you, I'm not leaving you alone. I never will."

^V^

"Two questions: why do you smell like gun powder and what the hell are you doing here?"

Dick, dressed ultra casual in jeans, a tee shirt and leather jacket, fell into the arm chair in front of my desk before answering, "First: had a shootout at the gun range with the wife… she won, and don't even start with a joke bout her wearing the pants in the household, that's common fact. And second, I have nowhere else to be."

Leaning back, I set my pencil down before asking, "Really, nowhere?"

"Nope."

"Interesting, because the news this morning said that one James Gordon Jr. and his fiancée were attacked in their home late last night… and both were hospitalized. If I'm not mistaken… that would be your brother-in-law and---"

"All right, all right," he nodded before raising a hand, the exhaustion coming off of him in waves, "Yeah… It's just… I can't sit in a waiting room any more… I needed to do something constructive, help clear my mind. Was there all night… Barbara went back so they could see their little girl…"

"Fair enough…" I checked the time to be a little before nine, "If you want, you can start in on the customer service e-mails I've been battling for the last two months and then---."

Dick leaned forward suddenly, "I'm pretty sure I hired you..."

"Right, and I've been doing your job and everyone else's practically all year so I'm telling you, _boss_, to get to work." If only I had been able to keep a straight face, it would have delivered so much more powerfully.

As a smirk crept onto my lips, Dick rose from the chair, saluted and marched out of my office and headed to his. Not five minutes later, I had received an inter-office memo labeled "IMDB Quote of the Day".

Opening it, I wasn't surprised to see Dick's calibri font had asked, "What character, portrayed by Daniel Day Lewis, said the following in a 2002 Golden Globe winning drama? -- "Now that you've had a taste of my mutton, how do you like it?"

I replied back, "Customers. Now. Dick."

His response was, "Yes, boss…"

As the office and cyber office returned to silence, I found myself wondering Dick's real reason for coming in on a Saturday. Although he had made diligent efforts to try and get in to do what he could to help out, it was suspicious for him to choose work over being a supportive husband. Even as messed up as my marriage had been to Linda, if her brother was in he hospital after being attacked by a mass murdering clown, I would have certainly been at her side.

Something wasn't right. The same something that had been bothering me for years.

After finishing my call backs and re-scheduling a few site visits, I decided to stretch my legs and fetch coffee for myself and Dick from the lounge. I filled both my Initech mug and his Dunder Mifflin mug with black gold, topping his off with three ridiculous spoonfuls of sugar.

His door was wide open but I still announced myself before entering, "Not as good as when Cass makes it…"

Dick glanced up from his monitor, seemingly surprised to see me despite the fact that my office was two doors down. After I handed off his coffee, he nodded and took a ginger sip, "Hey, as long as it's part sugar and part coffee, it's perfect."

Taking a seat in one of the chairs that were meant for clients but hadn't been used since March, I asked, "So… what were you doing at the gun range?"

Setting the mug down, he crossed his arms over his chest, the lean muscles of his forearms tensing, "I think… with what happened, and with what's happened before… she wanted to make sure, in case she needed to… you know… That she was ready."

"Yeah… Can't really picture her with a gun in her hands."

"Neither can I… Guess she had her pistol permit at twenty-one, went to the range with Jim quite a bit, he tried to get her into some contests but she was far more interested in gymnastics and cute boys…"

"I'll have to hit the range sometime… can't think of the last time I used my Glock."

September 21, 1999. Pursuit of an armed suspect through Grand Central Station.

Two shots fired, both of which hit the suspect in the back.

Pronounced dead on the scene.

"I'd say you could go with Barbara, but I think it was kind of a one time thing."

"Well… we could go."

The corner of Dick's mouth flinched, reminding me that he also carried the burden of using lethal force. It had been difficult for me to bear, but for some reason Dick wore it as a burden where most would love to be a "hero cop".

"Yeah, when things settle a bit… if I ever catch up on these bleepin' e-mails," he rose from the leather chair and said, "Well, I'm going to run over to the hospital quick, then I'll hit Blue Grill on my way back, if you want something."

Standing as well, I nodded, "Sounds good, I think they have French dip as a Saturday special, if not, a Reuben is fine."

"Yes, boss," he smirked as he donned his jacket and made his way to reception, "I'll be back later."

Logic and reason said that I wouldn't see Dick or anyone else for the rest of the day, which was fine. Dick had given me a raise some time ago in order to compensate my extraordinary efforts, just enough to start looking for a better apartment, maybe even a townhouse. I hated the thought of getting a loan or even asking Dick for money, but the thought of owning my own place, somewhere nice for the girls, was urging me to take action.

The second guest of the day had been just as surprising as the first.

Tim Drake, looking far more ragged than Dick, had tried sneaking into his office rather than making the attempt to seek me out. When I announced my presence, he went along with normal small talk for roughly two minutes before his entire form changed. Where he had been standing weakly with his head low a moment earlier, his entire body solidified as his gaze rose to meet mine.

"We need to talk."

I wanted to hear him say he and everyone else was involved with some sort of underground fight club or international spy organization. I had no desire to hear his seemingly forced confession of what had been distracting them in recent months.

Some secrets were better left unsaid.

Rather than return to work, I sat by listening intently as Tim explained the lies I had been enduring, his disbelief as to why he hadn't simply told me from the beginning and his doubts of his own abilities. A natural ability of mine had been to absorb and process information near instantly, thus making me the detective that I had once been.

Hearing that your work associates were actually Batman, Batgirl and Nightwing had required a few minutes.

After I had been silent for twenty minutes, Tim paused, "I'm sorry, this is probably too much, too soon, I don't know why I'm even telling you---."

"No, no, Tim… It's just… I can't get my mind around the fact that you don't think you can handle this… obviously you were chosen to take the guise for a reason." He tried to interrupt me, but I continued, "Tim, I know this doesn't even remotely comapre to what you're going through… but when I was in the NYPD, I had this case I couldn't close. This monster was going around and kidnapping teenage girls, did all sorts of barbaric things to them… left their bodies in dumpsters. Months, this guy was on the loose, never leaving a shred of evidence behind to point us to him."

"What happened?" he asked.

"He started to mess up. Partial boot print here, fiber from his shirt there. Even still, it wasn't enough to single him out… then one day, he decided he was cocky enough to try something in broad daylight. Tried to nab a girl in the subway… and as fate would have it, I was there, interviewing maintenance workers, getting boot prints and samples from their uniforms…"

His eyes widened with intrigue.

I finished, "I pursued him… and a shot him… he died right there in front of me. We had the evidence to convict him but subconsciously I didn't want to give him a chance to getaway."

His brow lowered nearly as much as his voice, "We don't kill, that's a line that was drawn decades ago."

"I know… I'm not saying you should… God knows I regret it, that sort of blood never washes clean… but what I'm saying is… he'll get bold, brash… and then he'll make the wrong mistake at the wrong time," I put a hand on his shoulder, "You'll get him. You will."

A little after five, he headed out, seemingly in better shape than when he had arrived. Returning to my office, I mentally prepared myself for the few hours I would have to make up, but had no sensation of regret. Taking a set, my cell phone chirped and I answered on the third ring.

Dick spoke quickly, "I swear, I'm coming with food. Lots of it. I'll stay as late as you need me, boss."

"Fine, Grayson… and get me a slice of the key lime cheesecake, extra whipped cream and extra key lime."

"You got it!" he exclaimed before hanging up.

Given that home was not in my near future and that there was no chance of any unexpected visits from clients, I opted to change from my suit into a outfit similar to Dick's. Closing my office door, just in case, I traded the slacks for jeans and the starched shirt and tie for a blue and canary yellow polo shirt. The girls had gotten it for me at some store in the mall called Hollister. Apparently, it was "hot".

As I carefully folded the suit and set it on the back of my chair, a soft rap sounded at the door, causing my stomach to growl. As I crossed the room, I called out, "About time,

I was beginning to think you forgot about me."

I pulled the door back, taking a second to look down to make sure my fly was zipped.

Looking up, I didn't see Dick with an arm full of white paper bags filled with delicious sandwiches, steak fries and key lime cheesecake.

Instead, I saw a pale man dressed in a boldly pin-striped suit with a stunning smile and revolver.

There was a loud bang followed swiftly by the room spinning and my head colliding with the back of one of the leather arm chairs. Stomach on fire, I blurrily watched my hands touch the red that was staining the bright yellow bands of the shirt.

The girls had gotten it for me.

The girls…

The Joker leaned in close, studying my paling face, "Oops… wrong one." He stood upright and retrieved a cell phone from his belt, "Harley, I thought you said he was here… Well I just shot some poor fellow… All right, I'll ask."

As he leaned over me once more, he smiled apologetically, "Sorry to bother you but… you wouldn't happen to know when Dick Grayson will be back in the office, would you?"

I had no intention of saying anything other then obscenities but all that came from my mouth was thick blood.

I watched as he went back to the phone, "He doesn't know… what? He's in the lobby? Wonderful, I'll wait for him."

Over my own failing breaths, I heard my desk phone ringing. The Joker stepped over my trembling body and activated the speakerphone.

Dick shouted, "Will, I've already called the police, the Joker is in the building!! Will?! Will?!"

The Joker giggled softly, "I'm afraid he can't come to phone right now…"

"Joker!" Dick bellowed, "If you've---."

He hung up and sighed. A moment later, he put a pink message slip in my quivering hand, "Please make sure Dick gets this… I marked it urgent. Oh, and sorry for the mix-up… these things happen all the time, I'm sure."

Given that my vision was fading, I had to bring the piece of paper to my nose in order to read it.

_Old acrobats never die, they just lose their grip. _

_^V^_


	12. Now And Then: XII

Title: Now And Then: XII

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language, adult situations and violence.

Summary: And they all fall down…

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Finally, after the first POV in this chapter, we will be moving passed the dreadful Friday night - Saturday late afternoon timeline that's been playing out over the last two chapters.

A/N 2: Little nod to some smoking hot Bale-Bat interrogation in Tim's POV! And it's a thirty-six page chapter… my bad.

^V^

I spent the entire afternoon at the hospital with Barbara, Jim, Maureen and the surprisingly cheerful Sarah. As I planned to head out, I considered dropping by the Townhouse to relieve Cass of Ethan sitting duty before heading to the office to give Will his over due French Dip. Babs was quick to point out that calling my order in ahead made no guarantee that the sandwiches would be done when I arrived. Making Ethan wait in my arms for my name to be called out at the pick up counter had sounded anything but appealing.

Babs then suggested, "Leave me the car, take a cab… I'll get Ethan from Tim's and meet you back home."

"Sounds like a plan," I nodded.

"Especially if you bring me something home for dinner," she added with a tired smile.

A miracle in itself, my order was ready and waiting as I stepped into the busy restaurant. Shortly after starting up DJG Security, the Blue Grill had been one of our primary sources of last minute lunches and over-time dinner destinations. For years, every Friday Jim had convinced us to head over for a staff lunch, even when it had just been the two of us. He had once said it was a way to wrap-up for the week but I knew he had just wanted to go there for the Friday sandwich, the Double Decker Reuben.

Since we had lost Jim, we still honored the Friday lunch as often as we could and I found myself ordering a Reuben each time.

After running the bill on the company's American Express card, I dropped a five into the tip jar on the carry-out counter and grabbed the white paper bags, my mouth salivating at the warm, meaty aromas within. Having spent the last few weeks in a nonstop hell, I had been neglecting my usual diet.

Or as Barbara had dubbed it, eating everything in sight.

I jogged across the street, earning an angry cry from a blond woman driving a florist truck seeing how I hadn't taken the time to use the crosswalk. Offering an apologetic wave, I slowed my pace entering the ground floor lobby through a revolving door. Given that many were leaving the office building for the day, I managed to snag an empty elevator car going up. After pressing the button for our suite, I leaned my back against the elevator and let out a heavy sigh.

Just as I was convincing myself not to reach into the bag to steal a steak fry, I found my gaze shifting to the advertisement poster on the left hand side of the car. They changed them every month, usually marketing businesses that resided in the building. It was nearly fifteen-hundred dollars a month to advertise and given the fact that our work spoke for itself, we had never indulged.

The orthodontist clinic on the floor below us had spent the money willingly, their sign showing of a pair of smiling young twenty-somethings with perfect, glossy white teeth. That was before someone had seen to drawing in gaps and a missing front tooth with a black marker.

Looking to the right, I spotted a psycho-therapist's poster for recognizing signs of depression, featuring a middle aged woman looking tired, alone and lost. In the same marker, someone had drawn over her somber lips, replacing it with a big toothy grin.

I dropped the white bags on the floor at the sight of the handwritten graffiti below the woman's chin, in far too familiar script: _Let's turn that frown upside down!!!!!_

My blood running cold, I reached out and touched the exclamation marks, my finger coming back with black lines and dots.

Fresh ink.

Grabbing my cell phone, I dialed Will's office, putting the phone between my ear and shoulder as I retrieved a small electronic device many mistook for a Blackberry. Instead, it was a mobile device linking me to the police dispatch, Oracom network, the crays in the Cave in addition to the security systems of the Clocktower and the office. Biometrically activated, it was an easy way for Dick Grayson to be Nightwing without the tights.

As the phone rang deafeningly in my ear, I accessed the suite's security system in order to activate a shut-down. In the event that the Joker had yet to enter, he would be prevented from doing so as the main doors bolted shut, in addition to the external windows and the emergency exit leading to the stairwell.

The large windows offering those in the hall to look into our luxurious reception area were actually bulletproof glass. Different from the standard variety, Wayne Tech had worked on it for the military a few years back, integrating aluminum oxynitride as a strike plate layer. It was capable of easily withstanding .50 caliber, armor piercing rounds.

Bruce had once estimated that a square foot would cost somewhere in the four-digits.

He had given us six panes to help make our office stand out amongst the run of the mill wooden panels and wall paper that were found on each floor's elevator lobby.

That was if the Joker hadn't made it inside…

The phone clicked on the other end and I shouted, "Will, I've already called the police, the Joker is in the building!!" When I heard nothing but quiet breaths, I continued, "Will?! Will?!"

My guts churned at the sound of a giggling voice on the other end, "I'm afraid he can't come to phone right now…"

"Joker!" I roared, counting the seconds remaining before the elevator opened to our floor, "If you've---."

Click.

The second the chime sounded and the gilded doors began to separate, I barged through, slamming my left shoulder in the process. Approaching the front double doors, I deactivated the locks in order to quickly pass through and lock them once more. The reception area was just as I had left it earlier that day, the furniture untouched, carpet spotless and even the magazines on the coffee table undisturbed.

A soft moan drew my eyes to the office doors, each of which were closed save for Will's.

Calling out his name, I raced over while keeping an eye out for any sign of evil clownhood. Will had changed into casual dress, no doubt preparing to take on another late night. Crimson covered his abdomen and had soaked into the carpet around him. As I knelt, I took his pulse with one hand while calling an ambulance with the other.

When I was asked who was injured and how by the dispatcher, I heard the alarm chime from my mobile computer in my pants pocket. Telling the operator that I had a forty-two year old male with a gunshot wound to the abdomen, I retrieved the device to see the screen reporting the rear entrance had been opened. Not a second later, overhead alarms sounded, which would shortly trigger the building wide fire alarm system encouraging everyone to exit the building to safety.

I had expected the stairwell sensor to trip a moment later as the Joker made his getaway but it hadn't.

With Will's skin cold and clammy and eyes fluttering, leaving him would have been a death sentence.

Staying with him would give the Joker ample time to sneak up behind me…

"Will, the medics are on they way… I need to see if he's still here…" I spoke softly, dropping the phone on the ground as the dispatcher called out for a response. Will's head lulled slightly but I wanted him more conscious before I left his side. Knowing the one true way to rouse him was the least polite, I apologized before smacking the front of his jeans.

His eyes snapped open as he reached up and punched me in the jaw, growling something incoherently, showing there was still plenty of fight in him.

"Will, the medics are---."

He groaned, "I heard you…"

"I'll be right back… Try not to bleed anymore on the carpet… the cleaning bill is coming out of your paycheck."

"Jackass," he smirked weakly before coughing wetly. I helped him turn his head, watching as he expelled dark blood. Not wanting him to choke while I was gone, I quickly pulled him up to sit against the back of an armchair. When I turned to leave, he grabbed my upper arm with a strength that surprised me, "Wait… top drawer…"

His Sig Sauer.

"Will, no, I'm going to lock you in, you'll be---."

He shook his head, "No… Can't answer the door… again…"

Reluctantly, I obliged him, handing it to him with the apology, "You can have this… as long as you know I was joking about the carpet bill."

"Sure you were…" he smirked weakly before fighting another bout of coughs.

I made the quick dash to my office in order to retrieve a few items that I hoped would be completely unnecessary. A bolo, gas pellets, eight batarangs and lastly a bullet proof vest. Since the Joker had attacked Jim and Maureen, I had carried one with me every where I didn't wear Kevlar tights.

Armed and somewhat ready, I quickly searched the offices, meeting room, lounge and bathrooms. Holding my breath, I slammed open the emergency exit, expecting the worst but finding nothing. Making my way back to Will, I was trying to convince myself that maybe the Joker had skipped his way down the stairs or had ridden down on the railings.

I stopped to see Jim's old office door open halfway.

After I had firmly closed it.

Stepping closer, I pressed my ear next to the door, listening to a soft voice mumble from within. I set up three batarangs in each hand, ready to barge in and end our four month battle with the Joker once and for all. After taking a deep breath, I listened as he giggled, "Jim Gordon's office, I'm afraid he's in a meeting now, can I take a message? Oh no, he's… all the way across town, I doubt he'll be back to the office this evening. Or ever."

I threw the batarangs in my left hand before opening the door the rest of the way, each embedding into the high back of the leather desk chair as it faced towards the windows. A playful shriek sounded just after I threw the remaining three, two of which had found their way into a sinewy bicep. The third anchored into a bony hand, forcing him to drop the phone as he dove for cover, knocking over most of the neglected items on the desk.

"This ends now!" I cried as I slammed the door behind me. Readying the bolo in my right hand, I took cover on the far side of the empty book case that had once held photographs of Barbara and myself, not to mention a number of other framed memories of James W. Gordon.

From the other side of the desk, a gloved hand rose, lifting a pencil with a tissue on the end of it, along with nervous giggles.

As with any monster, close quarters made matters all the more dangerous. Given that I had no idea how many bullets he had on him, not to mention what other weaponry hidden up his sleeves, I chose to smoke him out with a few of the gas pellets. After years of exposure, I had grown immune to their effects, namely the coughing, sneezing and vomiting.

A nice little mixture of bodily malfunctions for the criminal community courtesy of what I imagined to be Bruce's sick sense of humor.

Quickly, the light gas began fuming on the far side of the office, I heard the Joker's exaggerated coughs and pleas for mercy. Given that it was meant to disarm rather than conceal, the gas merely made the room hazy. Then again, that could have just been the fury that was coursing my blood. His hand disappeared behind the desk and I continued to listen as he sneezed repeatedly.

I should have waited longer.

With images of Barbara, Jason, Helena, Jim, Mo and baby Sarah flashing in my mind, I set up the last two batarangs in my left hand, ready to embed them anywhere in his body that would bleed the most.

Four shots fired aimlessly and I was able to dodge them in midair without effort. Landing on top of him, I heard him groan, "Damnit, Harley, you said I had six bullets left…"

I should have tied him up first.

Dropping the bolos, I slammed the batarangs into his uninjured arm, each finding nerves in his forearm that caused his gun hand to twitch and lose its grip. To pin him down, I knelt on his upper arms while bringing my weight straight down on his torso. Without hesitation, I found myself burying my fists in his face, hitting as fast and as hard as I could, alternating hands and ignoring the pain singing up my forearm.

Despite his lips splitting and nose breaking, he kept grinning up at me.

I should have…

"W-w-wait…" he stammered, "Six minus one minus four…"

BLAM.

I had a fraction of a second to shift out of the path of the bullet but with the gun being less than a two feet away, it hadn't been early enough. Given that I had been wearing the vest he had to aim either high or low, thankfully he chose to aim high. I spun around and off of him as the bullet hit me just below the collar bone and soared out my back.

Even though I had recovered quickly, he had already jumped to his feet, hitting me square in the temple with the butt of the gun.

Mind reeling, I fell to the ground and watched helplessly as he leaned over me, shaking his head slowly as he tsked.

The last thing I heard was, "You should say 'God bless you' when someone sneezes…"

^V^

As cold, April rain fell from the sky, I stood beneath the canvass covered archway leading into Wayne Tower. With an awkward smile on my face, I watched on as a pair of young doormen unloaded suitcases from the town car, all under Alfred's discreet orchestration. The head of reception watched on as well, getting an earful in the process.

"And you know what else?"

"What, Mr. Wayne?"

"My point -hih- exactly. When we got married… she didn't even change her name… And, you know, I know it shouldn't mean anything but -hih- it does… it means a lot… And they call it _Wayne _Manor for a reason."

"I'm sure they do, sir," he replied, doing his best to keep his eyes on his men working.

I set a hand on the man's shoulder, leaning into his personal space to be sure he understood the dire and drunken mess that was Bruce Wayne, "Sorry, I forgot your name?"

"Barry, sir."

"Call me Bruce, Barry… Barry?"

"Yes… Bruce?" His eyes found mine before looking to my splinted right hand.

I chuckled, "Punched the damn wall when she kicked me out… Guess I'm not playing golf next weekend…" I hiccupped before asking him, "You married, Barry?"

"Divorced. Twice."

He couldn't have been older than Dick. "Mutual?"

After a curt nod, Barry sighed, his façade cracking, "First one was. Married too young… Second one was a nightmare."

"I don't think I could survive one, let alone two…" I shook my head in wonderment.

"Ahem."

We both looked to see Alfred standing before us, none too impressed with my current state. Even though he was a master of the stage, Alfred had no need to utilize his acting skills as his disapproval was very real. After reconciling with my son and wife, I had asked him to pack a few weeks worth of clothing for my faux relocation to the city while I packed a few items form the Cave. Upon further describing my plans, he had been quick to voice his own thoughts on the matter.

Namely how I should be focusing my efforts on searching rather than luring.

Before leaving the Manor a little before eight, I had spoken with Selina and the kids in the master bedroom. I had waited, under Selina's orders, to ask Mattie to join the family meeting until after Terry had been able to find an appropriate hiding spot. Although a father of a teenaged girl, unfortunately the fact that her first boyfriend had snuck into the house was the least of my worries.

I had intended to briefly discuss what had happened to Jim and Maureen and that everyone was going to have to stay home for the duration of the time off from school. As Mattie began protesting about all of the gymnastic practices and riding lessons she had already missed, Nathan had started complaining about how he wanted to play baseball with Dick at Hudson University.

Upon silencing them and reminding them the house arrest was to protect them, Nathan had sighed before looking up to me, "Well, okay… as long as I can hang out in the Cave."

I had yet to inform my wife and daughter that I had told my youngest son the truth.

Selina had been shocked but understanding.

Mattie on the other hand…

After battling morning commuters, we had made it to Midtown just as my watch read eight-ten. Before Alfred had pulled into the drop-off area in front of the building, I had thrown back a shot of one-hundred proof rum before spilling an additional shot on the front of my shirt and wool coat.

I hadn't been the fop in nearly two decades.

Unlike Alfred, I was going to need ever ounce of my acting ability.

"Are we ready, Master Bruce?"

I nodded, letting go of Barry's shoulder, "Ready as I'll ever be… Thanks, Harry… er, Barry… It's nice to be able to talk this over with someone who's been there… someone who understands…" I broke out in sad laughter, "Someone who's not going to turn around and spill the beans to the tabloids… God, Alfred, remember that maitre'd? The Gazette must have been paid him a thousand bucks that time he ratted me out about those two models---."

"I believe that is enough, sir," Alfred interrupted me.

I nodded, stepped back, feigned imbalance before turning towards the revolving door, "You're right… my big mouth… reason why I'm in this mess… Try and speak my mind, get kicked out of my own house…"

As I pretended to trap myself halfway through the door, I watched out of the corner of my eye as Alfred spoke discreetly with Barry. As they both looked to me, I waved and then put in a hearty push on the door, falling on my face as it opened into the lobby.

I wondered who would kill me first, Alfred or Selina.

Or the Joker.

His hatred for me had been at the core of his criminal career since that dreadful first confrontation. The preliminary crimes since his escape from Arkham had been to prepare himself for the grand scheme brewing in his mind. No doubt he had also used them as a means of getting his feet wet after ten years on a gurney. A gurney I had put him on…

He would return the favor if given the chance.

As I had explained to Selina and later to Alfred, I wanted him to focus his sights on me and only me. Having already killed Huntress and attacked Jim and Maureen, he was making his way through the peripheral members of the Family and making his way fast. Tim had mentioned that Kelsey had already put protective guard on a number of law enforcement officials and possible targets.

An honest effort, one that would hopefully prevent her from discovering the Joker's true plan…

My hopes were to be mentioned on the six o' clock news when they rehashed the social events of the city before covering sports, if not the noon report. Thinking of the horrific headlines that would be making their rise over the next few days had brought a foul taste to my mouth.

In bed that morning, Selina had asked how I intended to recover from the spotlight.

With a moment of hesitation, I had offered, "We'll renew our vows… on our anniversary."

She had glared before demanding, "I want a second honeymoon, too."

"We will," I had leaned in to kiss her but she had recoiled.

Before I could inquire into her response, she had growled, "I will have a second honeymoon. You have to earn an invitation."

"Fair enough."

I had to don my game face once more as the elevator doors opened up to the elegant lobby at the penthouse entrance. The doormen had arranged the luggage neatly beside the front double doors, their laughter cut short at the sight of us. To further embarrass myself, I tripped stepping out of the elevator, righting myself by grabbing onto a potted plant, ripping a leafy branch in the process. The doormen stared, mortified, until I offered a low chuckle and loudly exhaled, "Jager for breakfast… bad idea."

Once Alfred had unlocked the penthouse and ushered the doormen to carry my belongings into the atrium, I fished in my wallet and gave each of them several hundred dollar bills. They thanked me profusely and in return I asked them to stay for a drink. As they explained they were working, I countered that technically they worked for me.

A dismal Alfred had put an end to my "fun" after directing the young men back to the elevator. When he returned to the penthouse, he found me already working on the security panel just inside the main entrance. The entire day would be devoted to installing and activating countermeasures and lockdown mechanisms with tools that counted for more than half of my luggage.

"If there is nothing else, sir…"

As I opened the panel to access the larger computer component within, I shook my head.

"Very well, Master Bruce… I will be sitting for Master Ethan for the day… and I intend to visit with Master Tim and Ms. Cassandra."

"Fine."

"I shall return by five this evening."

I managed a grunt of acknowledgment before he quietly excused himself. Not a minute later, there was a soft rap at the door and growled lowly to myself before closing the panel, walking over and ripping the door back, "What, Alf---."

Lucius Fox had taken a step back in surprise before glancing over his right shoulder, "Alfred just went down in the elevator… didn't seem his cheery self and now I know why."

"Lucius… I…" I paused, putting myself back into drunken gear, "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you… mind if I come in?"

Shaking my head, I stepped back, feigning poor coordination in closing the door behind him.

He appraised the neatly stacked luggage before explaining, "I came in to catch up on some things so I would be able to spend the rest of my weekend with the wife… it's our anniversary tomorrow."

I let a sad look wash over my face as I closed the distance between us, "Congrats."

"Surprised she's put up with me after all these years… anyway, the head of security called my office, said there was a drunk man making a scene in the lobby. I had asked why they had called me instead of the police," Lucius looked me dead in the eye, without any sign of usually amiable demeanor, "He said it was because the drunk man was you."

"I know, and I'm sorry," I started to explain.

"Fifteen years ago I wouldn't have doubted that you were capable of showing up to Wayne Tower at eight in the morning drunk and staggering… But now… Bruce, what the hell is going on with you?"

Allowing my shoulders to slump in defeat, I answered, "Selina and I… we've been fighting… she… she had it… kicked me out this morning.. You believe it, after all these years and---."

He cut me off once more, "I don't."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't believe you… I don't believe she kicked you out. Same as I don't believe you broke your hand hitting a punch bag… or that you've ever been in a single car accident as a result of drunk or reckless driving… or that you sleep through meetings because you were out clubbing all night…."

I hesitated before dropping my foolish façade, "What are you getting at, Lucius?"

He continued to glare at me before suddenly about facing, slowly walking through the open rooms of the penthouse. Keeping a yard between us, I followed him, still waiting for his response.

Finally, it came, "Bruce… I've known you for half of your life. At first, I believed you were exactly as you appeared to be… Dim-witted, ignorant womanizing socialite… But it was the little things that have added up over the years, and I'm not even talking about the injuries. All those odd looks you'd get when you thought no one was looking… disappearing at all of those fundraisers and banquets… then when things started disappearing from applied sciences…"

He looked to me before proceeding, "Individually, it wouldn't have meant anything… except… combined… and taking in your parents, rest their souls… the way you fought for this city when Washington wanted to shut it down… Gotham may have fallen for it, but I haven't, Bruce… There's not a damned person in the world that cares more about Gotham than you… And someone with that much drive, that much heart… doesn't get kicked out by his wife at eight in the morning, doesn't come to work drunk off his ass…"

The penthouse was eerily silent.

"I'm not angry that you've lied to me all these years, I'm not. As far as I'm concerned it's just another philanthropic act… although far more costly than any check you've signed."

"How long have you---?"

He shook his head, "I'm not finished, Bruce… I'm not going to tell you what I know or how long I've known because at this point, it doesn't matter… What matters is… how much more you're going to put yourself through? Your family… the kids… Bruce, I spent my entire life devoted to this company, watched my own children grow up through school photos…" Lucius closed the space between us, before setting a hand on my shoulder, "Promise me, Bruce, this ruse, whatever it's for… make sure it's worth it."

Seeing how there was no need to hide it any longer, I replied in a low growl, "This ruse… is to protect my family, Lucius."

He nodded, letting his hand fall, "That's fine… but pushing away your family, Bruce, for whatever reason… that's not protecting them."

I had half of a mind to explain myself further to Lucius but he was already making his way to the entrance.

And I had work to do.

Left alone with my thoughts, I spent the remainder of the morning adjusting the countermeasures throughout the entire penthouse. From motion activated tasers to pressure sensitive tiles that turned on knockout gas ducts, I was able to put a dent in the list of upgrades needed before I would be able to leave for the day.

Before running a diagnostics on the system to find a way to speed up the window and door lockdown, I took a seat at the long neglected bar. Instead of calling Selina to check in, I dialed a different number, wondering if I should have done so earlier that morning in order to obtain assistance…

After three rings, "DJG Security, Will Cutting speaking, how can I help you?"

"Will, it's Bruce… was Dick in today?"

"He was, actually he just stepped out, was going to visit Jim and Maureen at the hospital… he said he was going to drop by later this afternoon though."

"Ah."

"Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No… I'll catch up with him later. Thank you."

^V^

I hadn't slept since the brief cat nap I squeezed in during the wee hours Friday morning after patrols.

Even if I wanted to crash, I wouldn't have been able to, not after what happened to Jim and Maureen.

And Sarah.

And Will.

And… Dick.

As Tim and I had shared a fine dinner on Saturday, courtesy of the recently returned Alfred, Dick and Will had been facing off with the Joker at the Firm.

While I had been loading the dishwasher and Tim had been walking Robbie, they had been bleeding to death…

Alfred had left with Ethan a little before five, intending to leave him in the care of his mother at the hospital. When they had left, I actually thought things were turning for the better, that with our "rock" back, we would be able to stabilize and move forward.

Wishful thinking.

Barbara, who had an automated connection to any 911 calls made from any of our residences or cell phones, had been the first to be notified. Two Caucasian males, mid-thirties, one with a gunshot wound to the abdomen, the second with a gunshot wound to the chest and head trauma. Neither had been responsive when medics had arrived.

Dick had called dispatch prior to being shot, and police and medics had made double-time to respond given that the Joker had been involved. Since they had already been at the hospital, both Barbara and Alfred had gone through the necessary measures of contacting everyone. Alfred had naturally called Wayne Manor while Barbara had called our townhouse. I had picked up the phone, expecting her to give an update about Jim and Maureen.

Instead, her frantic voice had said, "The Joker attacked the firm, Will and Dick have been shot."

After dropping the plate I had been holding, I had watched it fall in slow motion before shattering at my feet. Despite the fact the my pulse had started pounding in my ears, I managed to listen as she offered what few details she had. Instinctively, I had assured her that we would head to the Firm immediately, sunlight be damned.

When Tim had returned from the back yard with our bouncing Boxer, he had found me standing amidst the shattered plate ware, "Cass?"

I had looked to him, my mouth agape and my face pale.

After spotting the phone in my hand, he had growled, "What's happened?"

Leaving behind our clean, happy house, we had raced to the satellite cave, donning the reinforced suits as quickly as possible. Although my mind had been overwhelmed with the thought that Dick and Will were on their way to Mercy in ambulances, I found a nursery rhyme floating through my head.

Ring around the rosie…

After pulling on my mask, I looked up to see Tim was already suited up and hopping on one of the cycles. Without looking back to me, he gunned it, spinning around towards the rear of the Sat-Cave in order to scream out the back entrance.

I jumped on my cycle a moment later, making it to the alley on a hind wheel. After skirting the corner, I spotted tire marks on the sidewalk and people already scattered to the side. My father had once taught me that upon discovering a window of opportunity, it was an individual's responsibility to take it.

With the engine loud enough to forewarn my approach, I raced down the sidewalk as well, flying by pedestrians and the vehicular five o' clock traffic. I finally caught up with him after he was forced to swerve and decelerate to avoid a perturbed cab driver. Generally, it was a fifteen minute commute to work but we had made it in less than six, arriving to a t least a dozen police cars and two SWAT vans. Opting for discretion, I followed him behind our the building, coming to an abrupt stop one alley down.

I continued to struggle in keeping up with him as he shot a line up to our neighboring building, an apartment complex that overflowed with yuppies that clogged our local restaurants and coffee shops. We used to make fun of them as they ordered skim milk lattes and organic BLT's.

A pocket full of posies…

Landing on the rooftop of our building, Batman made no hesitation before kicking in the service door and leaping down the stairs. I was about to say that the place was flooded with SWAT teams members who tended to shoot first and ask question s later but I knew he wouldn't have heeded it. Thankfully, I heard him growl into the comm. link, "Kelsey, I'm coming down through the roof, clear the suite…. Now!"

While we raced down the vacant stairwell, I opened up my own communication with Barbara's cell phone but there was no answer.

As we made it to our emergency exit door, I found my blood was pumping hot and fast, although not from the exercise or even the adrenaline of the ride over. As much as I hated to admit it, I was afraid of walking through the lead door, knowing that the Firm we knew was no longer in existence.

I watched as Batman entered the ten digit code before ripping the heavy door back, leaving me to follow him in before it slammed shut.

Even In the main reception area, there were at least a fifty yellow evidence cards already in place, and no doubt the offices had been in the process of being marked before we had arrived. Kelsey stood at the front door, ushering out the last of the forensics team. When she turned around, she wasn't surprised to see us standing there in the brightly lit room.

"SWAT's canvassing the building, room by room… so far no sign of him," she offered before walking towards us. I did my best to look through the open space as if it had been the first time I had seen it, but looking to Batman I noticed he hadn't even bothered.

She continued while proceeding towards Will's office door, "Lobby and elevator cameras have the Joker walking right in through the front door, wearing a trench coat, hat and bandages on his face… when he signed in at the front desk he had mumbled that he was here to see the plastic surgeon on the seventh floor," she paused at the open door, looking back to us, "First victim was in here."

Batman looked to me and growled lowly, "Scan this suite… for anything that's different."

I nodded and left him to join Kelsey, keeping my ear tuned into their conversation.

Kelsey continued, "He's an employee… Will Cutting… gunshot to the abdomen. Found him with a Sig Sauer in his hand but he had a pistol permit, retired NYPD… We've already pulled footprints… looks like some will match the Joker and the other victim in here… looks like the second vic came in, propped up Cutting… went to the desk, cmae back, no doubt with the Sig, and then left… Bullet didn't pass through, we'll have to wait until it's recovered."

The cold cop talk brought a foul taste to my lips.

Carefully making my way through the reception area, where I had once spent most of my time, I found that everything was in order. The Joker had practically destroyed Jim and Maureen's house, with the Hummer driving into the foyer and the few hundred rounds that had spent on the ceiling. But the firm, where his enemies were more closely associated, noting was disturbed.

I was looking through the lounge area as they passed by, heading towards Jim's old office, "Second victim was in here, the owner, Richard Grayson, ex-Bludhaven PD… He was the one that took out one of those cop-killing bank robbers a while back."

"I'm aware," Batman replied softly.

"As you can see, significant struggle in here… desk is wiped clean, chair overturned… and five bullets, four in the wall and the fifth from the vic is over by the arm chair. Spray of blood on the blinds and carpet on the far side of the desk and then this splatter pattern here… and the accumulated spot where the vic fell…"

"He hurt him," I heard the low gravel of Batman's voice. Before Kelsey could ask for an explanation, he continued, "The pattern over there is light… arterial… very minor wound… here, it's too dense, mixture of arterial and venous… no sign of a drip pattern between the two… not the same person, not the same wound."

At that, I switched my lenses before retrieving my UV flashlight, not surprised to see small trickles of blood on the dark carpet, leading down the corridor to the fire exit.

I joined them in Jim's office, ready to disclose my limited findings.

The sight of the massive puddle of blood on the carpet silenced me.

They both looked to me but I was unable to say anything.

"What condition were they in?" he inquired, his eyes leaving my face.

Kelsey hesitated before answering, "Unconscious.. But the medics said they were both in good shape given the significant blood loss. With Mercy being so close they would be able to get them into the OR quick…" My eyes were drawn to Kelsey as she reached into her coat pocket, retrieving a plastic evidence bag, "Cutting had this in his hand… Figured it would make more sense to you…"

Batman took the bag, which contained a pink message slip, splattered with dark blood. I stepped forward to see the Joker had filled out the various lines with his name, time and date of the call in addition to checking the "urgent" box.

In the message part, he had scribbled, "Old acrobats never die, they just lose their grip."

Ashes, ashes…

I had to leave, I had to get out of there, I had to---.

No.

Before he could offer an explanation, real or fake, for the old joke, I spoke up, "There's a faint blood trail, leading to the emergency exit."

Batman nodded, "There wasn't any coming from the roof, he must have made it back to the ground floor unnoticed…"

Kelsey's radio squawked with male's voice, "Commish, this Emmerson. We're in the sub-basement, someone's busted open the emergency exit down here… We've got a bloody coat, arms are both ripped up pretty badly… also a .40 caliber Glock, empty cartridge."

.40 Caliber… no wonder there was so much blood.

As Kelsey excused herself in order to catch up with the progress of the search, Batman looked to me, silently asking what else I found.

"Nothing… everything is in place… this," I gestured to the destroyed office, "Is only thing different."

"There has to be something," he snapped back.

I reminded myself that he was upset, that we both were, and didn't snap back at him.

We took another hour to search through the suite, pushing the patience of the forensics team outside. I watched as he took samples of each of the blood patterns between both offices and the hallway. Before leaving, he told Kelsey he wanted the coat and she agreed as long as he returned it within a few hours.

"And the message slip, as well?"

He had nodded at her.

"Fine… Anything that will help."

Seven years ago, Kelsey wanted nothing to do with us.

Amazing what a little tragedy did to someone's perspective.

Leaving the suite, Batman showed considerably less drive then when we had raced in. On the rooftop, he hesitated before turning to me, his voice soft and pained, "Go to the hospital… I want to run these at the Sat-Cave…"

"Wait---."

He cut me off, "No.. I need to focus on the evidence… They'll both be in surgery for the remainder of the evening… no use in sitting around…"

"No."

"No?"

"I won't leave you alone. Not now."

"Cassandra," Tim's voice surfaced, belying the dark look of the accented cowl, "Barbara needs you… more than I do right now."

"Not so sure about that," I stated.

"Not sure about anything anymore…" his mouth tightened before the growl returned to his voice, "Fine… after going to the hospital, cover the target sites we have left."

I mentally listed them: the Clocktower, Wayne Tower, Wayne Manor and the less likely mayoral mansion, Bryce's and Kelsey's private residences.

"I've already told my father what's happened.. But…"

"Consider it done," I replied to his unasked question.

Parting ways, I returned to the cycles, taking mine to Mercy seeing how I had a plainclothes disguise in the storage compartment under the seat. I tried Barbara's cell phone again, still not expecting a response.

Her voice was music to my ears, "Cass?"

"We checked out the Firm, not much but Joker was wounded… I'm heading your way now, how is---."

She interrupted me, "Where's Tim?"

"Heading to the Sat-Cave, run some evidence."

"Good… Good… Okay… All right…"

"Barbara?"

"I'm fine, Alfred's here… Selina and Bruce are on their way…"

"How are they?"

"… I don't know… I was in recovery when the call was forwarded… by the time I made it to the ER, they were already being moved upstairs… Will went to thoracic surgery and Dick went to ortho… Yes… Okay… Cass, I have to go."

Click.

And we all fall down…

^V^

"Mrs. Grayson?"

"Yes?"

I had been talking on my cell to Cass while situated in the waiting room of orthopedic surgery. The last fifteen minutes had been a blur of action and emotion, compounded with a sleepless night and the worry of my brother and future sister-in-law.

Even though Alfred had brought my smiling little boy to visit, I had been on my last, raw nerve.

Looking to my right, I spotted a middle aged Korean man clad in dark blue medical scrubs approaching. I had already filled out and signed medical release and consent forms, in addition to answering a barrage of questions about Dick's allergies and health history.

Most of which I left out.

"I'm Dr. Yeoum, I'll be taking your husband into surgery… I was wondering if I could have a quick word with you."

I nodded before saying, "Okay," and then into the phone, "Cass, I have to go."

He took a seat in one of the padded waiting chairs across from me. As with most surgeons, his arms were long and sinewy, the muscles refined for the slightest of maneuvers. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs as he watched me return the phone to my pants pocket.

"How is he?" I asked, trying to keep my anxiety in check.

"He's stable, the bullet entered just under the collar bone," he pointed it out on his own narrow chest, "And exited through the upper thoracic region of his back… unfortunately, the exit wound is fairly severe, the bullet hit the scapula, damaging the head of it in addition to the supraspinatus muscle and the transverse scapular ligament and nerves."

"What's the prognosis?"

He sat upright, no doubt put off by the fact that I was far from confused by his medical jargon, "Well, once we open the shoulder up, we'll have a better idea as to how extensive the damage is… the x-ray showed more than a dozen bone splinters that will need to be removed… from there, we'll hopefully be able to resect and reattach the nerves and muscle with a synthetic tissue fed in to a plate pinned into the scapula."

My mind suddenly flashed back to just before Bruce's knee replacements, when Dick had been watching Discovery Health surgical footage practically nonstop.

Dr. Yeoum, proceeded, "Most likely, he'll require additional surgery once the traumatic swelling resolves… I've seen far worse damage done with complete mobility restored."

I wanted to ask what the worst case scenario was for recovery but couldn't bring the words to my lips. Instead I questioned, "The triage nurse said he had a head wound?"

Nodding, he replied, "Minor concussion, four inch laceration on his temple. We'll have Dr. Sands from plastics come down and fix it while he's under." A nurse called his name from down the hall and he nodded, "I'll be right in, Carol." When he glanced back to me, "Is there anyone I can have contacted for you?"

"My… Family, they're on their way."

"Good, the surgery should be at least four hours. Six at most. I'll have a nurse come out and update you regularly."

"Thank you," I whispered as I looked up at him. My eyes then shifted to focus behind him as the elevator doors opened to reveal Selina. Alone.

After excusing himself, Dr. Yeoum made his way back down the corridor to scrub-in and dissect my husband's shoulder down to the bone. Rather than watch him disappear behind double doors marked "Authorized Personnel Only", I kept my gaze on Selina as she jogged over.

"How is he?" she asked, out of breath.

After relaying the information to her, Selina sat down in the chair across from her. I then asked, "Where is everyone?"

"I dropped the kids off with Bruce…"

I nodded, "... He called me this morning, told me he was upgrading the system at the Penthouse. Said something about ignoring whatever came on the news about him."

"He… wants the joker to come after him, instead of the rest of us… had this plan to make a scene that Bruce Wayne had lost it, marriage was on the rocks, kicked out of the mansion, moving into the penthouse alone… drunk, sad, vulnerable… Hoping that the Joker would take advantage of it."

We looked to the wall mounted television screen, quietly broadcasting the six o' clock news. There was a late-breaking report airing, with footage rotating between the exterior of the Firm's building with muted images and video of Dick, my father, Will and Tim in action or being interviewed.

And of course, footage of the Bludhaven shootout.

After a silent two minutes, Selina spoke softly, without any humor in her voice,

"Guess Bruce is going to have to wait to ruin his reputation… Any word on Will?"

I nodded slowly, my eyes locked on the screen as video played of Dick, smiling at a press conference, standing beside my father…

"He was shot in the abdomen… I didn't get much more than that… His girlfriend is on her way… I've called his-wife but she hasn't called back."

"Where does she live?"

I automatically replied, "New York City."

Selina stated, "I'll have Bruce send a jet to pick them up… that way she has no excuse not to bring the girls down." Sitting back in the chair, she crossed her arms over the front of her wool dress coat, "Nightmare…"

"What?" I asked, my mind buzzing loudly.

"It's a nightmare… endless nightmare… ," she leaned forward again, "And like a nightmare, there's nothing we can do to stop it."

I hesitated before responding, "That's not true… we can still wake up…"

Since the death of Huntress, I had been in contact with Clark several times. Since his involvement in the Planetarium bombing, he hadn't said a word to any one us, thanks to Bruce's right cross. Having worked with him and the Justice League for over a decade, I had earned an audience with him simply out of mutual respect.

That morning, while Dick had been calling the gun range to secure us a private appointment, I had contacted Clark, who had surprisingly been at home having breakfast with his wife.

"I'm not interrupting am I?" I had asked, trying to hide the pain in my voice.

Super-hearing aside, he had been able to pick up on it, "Not all, Barbara… is everything all right?"

After informing him about the Joker's attack on my brother's house, he had been quick to offer coming to Gotham. I had stopped him by saying, "No… No.. It's just that they're moving back to Chicago once Jim's cleared to fly… that far away, I won't be able to protect them, not that I could here…"

"Don't, Barbara… don't blame yourself. From the sounds of it, there's wouldn't have been much that even I could have done." Clark had exhaled slowly before continuing, "And I will keep an eye on them."

"Thank you, Clark."

"It's the least I could do… and please, tell Tim, if he needs me… to hell with Bruce, I'm here."

I had almost told him to come, like he had said, to hell with Bruce.

Although, too late, he still made perfect timing.

My gaze was on the elevator once more as Clark stepped off onto the floor, wearing a tired midnight blue suit and a look on his face torn between anguish and heartbreak. After surveying the near empty waiting room, he looked to me, "Barbara, I'm so sorry… How is he?"

Rehashing Dick's condition again, I added, "Clark… how did you find out, I haven't told anyone outside of Gotham?"

Clark nodded to the television, "This is national news… I was in the Florida, fixing a dam before it burst… Was getting ready to head home when I saw Dick on the news through someone's living room window… And when I found out why…"

He then looked to Selina before asking, "Where is everyone, I had expected the entire Family to be standing by?"

I answered first, "Tim and Cass were investigating the scene… She should be on her way soon…"

"And not Tim?" he inquired, his hands finding his hips.

I shook my head, "It's for the best… I'd much rather have him out there hunting down the Joker than sitting in a plastic chair."

"What about Bruce, the kids?"

Selina then spoke, "He has them at the Penthouse."

"I saw that on the news as well…" he looked over Selina and when her brow rose, he clarified, "Not quite national news, but I picked up a bit of it in the lobby downstairs. I figured he was miserable, I hope it's not that bad."

Selina shook her head, "No, it's just… All part of the plan. At least for now."

After catching Clark up on the last twelve hours, his head jerked to the left and he quickly promised to back later that night once Dick was out of surgery. I assumed he had heard of some disaster or global emergency that required his attention. When the elevator doors opened for the third time, I suddenly wondered if confronting Bruce had been the emergency…

He stepped off of the car, holding the door as Mattie and Nathan followed him with Alfred holding Ethan entering the corridor last. Holding his son's hand, Bruce tried to walk as fast as possible towards us without dragging poor Nathan. Mattie, far too teenaged and independent for hand holding, had settled on walking beside Alfred, carrying Ethan's baby bag with her own backpack slung over the other shoulder.

Once within hearing range of the waiting room, Bruce leaned over and whispered in Nathan's ear before letting the boy loose.

With a grin on his face, Nathan raced towards me, coming to an abrupt halt before hugging me and kissing my cheek. Patting his back, I kissed him back and asked him what it was for.

After letting me go, he shrugged his tiny shoulders and said, "Cause," before turning and climbing onto his mother's lap.

When the remainder of the group joined us, I offered to take Ethan from a weary looking Alfred, letting the fidgety toddler sit on my lap. While I kissed his caramel curls on his head, Mattie approached and handed of his bag, her usually bright face dismal. I squeezed her hand before she walked over to join her mother and brother on the couch.

She had seen her parents victims of a car accident, Tim nearly killed by Zsasz and even Cassandra knocked down by Hades' bullet but it was the first time Dick had been grievously injured in her lifetime. The last time he had gone under the knife had been when he had been shot in the leg shortly after Tim had taken the cowl. Even then, it hadn't been serious and he had been back on his feet in no time.

Not this time, boy wonder…

Alfred chose to sit in the single chair beside me, doing his best to be cordial despite the fact that he had been going nonstop since his secret return to Gotham.

I found myself thinking back to that morning, with Dick hugging Alfred in disbelief.

… _Dick, I'm not joking. You can stay if you---_

… _I told you, I'm not leaving you alone. I never will…_

Ethan looked up at me and grasped my chin before smiling, "Mah-mah."

I kissed his fingertips, "I see you, little man."

"Mah-mah," he repeated before looking around, "Okay… Dada?"

I had been doing just fine until then.

It hadn't been finding out that the Joker knew who we were, hearing Dick's dispatch call coming over my cell phone or even the sad looks befalling my Family.

It was Ethan, smiling while looking for his dada, that had tears flowing over my cheeks.

^V^

I was breaking Bobo's face when Barbara called to say both Dick and Will were out of surgery and in recovery.

Thanks to Dick's aggressive attack on the Joker, I had been able to at least find one member of the diabolical trio. The jacket that had been found in the sub-basement of our building had been the one the Joker was wearing during the attack. Specifically, while Dick had stabbed him with batarangs, according to the security footage I had swiped from our Firm's system.

It wouldn't make a difference in the investigation performed by the Special Crimes unit and the last thing Dick needed to worry about was explaining his weapon's cache.

A dark charcoal, size forty men's blazer by Keithmoor. Not tailored, no embroidery or anything in the pockets as a means of identifying who owned the jacket before the Joker "borrowed" it.

But, there was a dry cleaner's receipt pinned on the inside for Arrow Laundry Services in the Neville Business Court for "Acct. 34561".

After retreating the Sat-Cave to run the blood samples from the jacket and joke and to check for fibers and other sources of DNA, I had made my way to Tri-Corner to drop them off to Kelsey. In order to save her time, I had taken ten minutes to catch her up to speed on what I had discovered as far as forensics went, excluding the receipt that I had taken for my own.

If it had lead to the Joker, I had wanted to have a word with him before the officials showed up.

"Here are copies of all the security tapes… the offices weren't on camera feeds but the reception and hallway cameras had good shots of the Joker coming in, shooting Cutting and then running off to hide in the stairwell. Then ten minutes later, Grayson walks into the office, finds Cutting, gives him a gun from the desk and then goes into his own office… comes out wit a vest on so whatever Cutting said, Grayson knew something was going to happen."

Even though I knew both were under anesthesia, I had asked, "Any statements?"

She had sighed before replying, "No, both are still in surgery…. But I have two detectives from Special Crimes standing by for when they get out."

It would take an act of God to get passed the Family waiting by both of the victims' bedsides.

Kelsey had thanked me, "Not just for tonight… for everything."

"It's not over yet… when it is, you can thank me then," I had replied before jumping out of her window.

From there, I had returned to the Firm, wanting to mentally and visually run through the attack as they had been depicted on the security tapes.

Breaking into the Laundromat had been simple enough, after all, it was a respectable Neville neighborhood, and even the password for the computer had beenn _ArrowLaundryServices_. The account belonged to a man named Ed Tudeski, with a billing address of 3421 Reservoir Road, not two miles from the business court. DMV showed him to be a sixty-eight year old, brown eyed, gray haired white male.

Organ donor.

Given the condition of his sports blazer, I had a bad feeling about what state Mr. Tudeski was in.

I managed to take refuge in a large oak that seemed to engulf the small property's front lawn. It was a nice enough house, two stories, nice siding and recently painted trim. As I staked out the residence, I ran it's address through our system, not surprised to see it was currently listed with Malcolm Real Estate.

Perhaps Tudeksi had found a very wrong buyer…

After twenty minutes, the only activity had been a shadow moving from an upstairs room down to the ground floor before disappearing to the back. Barging in meant possibly facing off with the Joker or even worse, an innocent man who was just going downstairs for a glass of water.

With Dick and Will joining Maureen and Jim in the hospital, I had no other choice.

Upon leaping onto the roof, I scaled around to the back to find the shadowed figure. As I carefully dropped to the back porch, I was able to look into the kitchen to see a man was in fact getting a drink of water.

But not an innocent man and certainly not Tudeski.

I had seen him only once in person, but the mottled, fading bruises that still adorned my body said it was more than enough.

He had approached the back door, hitting the kitchen light but at the same time, he accidentally hit a porch light, putting me in the spot light.

Ah, hell.

Losing the element of surprise, I had simply dove through the window, knocking Bobo to the ground before wrenching him back to his feet. After slamming my elbow into the side of his head and cramming a fist into his jaw, I had shoved him face first into the tiled countertop. He had fallen to the ground along with a number of pots and pans, With the dimly lit room full of sharp edges, I had taken a fraction of a second to activate my night lenses.

The room had turned green just before Bobo swung a cast iron frying pan at my face

Good timing.

I had ducked before launching my shoulder into his meaty abdomen, using whatever momentum I could muster to heft him into the air before slamming him to the ground once more. He had reached for another pan but my boot came down hard, crushing his wrist.

The scream that had escaped his bloodied lips brought a smile to mine.

As he moved to get to his hands and knees, I had kicked him hard in the back of the head, sending him face first to the pale linoleum floor. Landing between his shoulders with both of my knees, I had grasped his uninjured arm with all intentions of injuring it. Wrenching it behind him, I had forced it to cross over to the other side forced, sneering as he roared in pain.

Something in my mind had told me it was too much.

Helena's face flashed in front of my eyes and I had realized it hadn't been nearly enough.

Holding his overextended arm straight with my left hand, I had brought my right elbow down on his, feeling and hearing his humerus shatter on impact.

My breath hot with anger, I had leaned in to growl into his ear, "Where is he?"

Bobo had snickered in response.

Sitting up, I had proceed to smash his face into the floor, growling once more, "Where is he?!"

His chuckles had grown louder, causing his back to shake slightly.

Grabbing him by the hair to force him back down once more, I had heard a soft tone in my ear followed by Barbara's voice "Boss?"

"I'm busy," I had snapped before forcing Bobo's head down with e swift shove. With his teeth crunching in his mouth, he had suddenly lost the will to laugh at me.

"Not for this… Will and Dick are out of surgery… so far so good… they're in recovery now."

Rising to my feet, I asked, "How are they?"

"Okay… Will had a tear in his spleen and diaphragm but once they were able to get in there, they were able to put everything back in order," she explained while I checked Bobo's vitals. As I bound him, ignoring his injured limbs, she continued, "Dick… is a little worse off."

My breath caught momentarily before I inquired, "How so?"

Her tone softened, weakened, "The bullet ruptured the ligaments and nerves over the top of his shoulder blade… the ortho surgeon was able to reattach the ligaments and muscles without a problem but the neurosurgeon that came down… he had to take transplant nerves from Dick's leg…"

"And?" I growled as I began dragging the limp body out the back door.

"They said it will be at least a year before he can… before he will ahev full use of his arm…"

I punched Bobo's face once more time for no reason at all.

No, there was a reason.

Before she could continue, I informed her, "Well, it wasn't for nothing."

"What did you find?" she asked, her voice finding life once more.

"The Joker was wearing a suit that had a dry cleaner's receipt inside of it… belonging to a man in Neville. I went to observe his residence, possibly infiltrate when I found Bobo was inside."

Barbara's breathing hitched before she asked, "Did you---?"

The blood on my gloves was growing sticky, "Yes…. I did. I'm going to tour the house, then call it in to GCPD."

"I doubt the Joker would go back there, not after leaving such a blatant clue behind."

Nodding, I tied Bobo to the wrought iron railing of the stone accented porch. Using enough D-cel cable to jump from the fiftieth story of the Hart Tower, I returned to the house, "Agreed, but whatever he's left behind will hopefully point out to what he is up to next."

"Let me know if you need---"

"No, Barbara, I've got this… You have other things to take care of right now."

Click.

I opted to start from the top in order to work my way down. The house was very well lived in with dirty clothes, empty food cartons and general mess covering every other square foot. The Joker had certainly made himself at home, drawing over paintings and portraits, even going as far as putting actual pictures of himself over those that once featured Tudeski's family.

There was a life-sized silhouette of a pointy eared stick figure on the guest bathroom's wall with nearly thirty razors, knives and shards of glass embedded all over the body.

At least he had drawn a smiley face on my doppleganger.

The basement was an abattoir.

A reclining chair with buckles and belts sat beneath an overhead lamp with a number of empty stainless steel carts surrounding it. Dark, dried patches of blood scattered the floor, walls, chair and ceiling. Even though I took pictures and samples, I knew whose blood it had been, who had suffered at the hands of a monster.

Helena…

I took two hours to scan the house before calling it into Kelsey. Before leaving, I returned to the backyard to find Bobo was coming to. When his swollen eyes found my shadow he tried to smile.

Crouching in front of him, I promised I would talk to him later before patting his throbbing elbow.

I was nearly midnight when I snuck into Mercy General Hospital, just as I had the night before to meet with Nightwing and Barbara, not twenty-four hours earlier. Rahter than calmly question Jim and Maureen, I had come to make see how the Joker's latest victims were fairing.

Seeing how Will's latest girlfriend, Ronna was in his room, holding his hand while feeding him ice chips and gentle kisses, I opted to visit with Dick first.

Barbara was dozing in the chair beside Dick's bed, her wheelchair pushed up against the wall behind her. Surprisingly enough, there wasn't any one else in the room and when I glanced into the hall, there wasn't a familiar face in sight. Turning back to the gurney, my eyes found their way to Dick's bandaged torso, his left arm securely wrapped to his chest. A small piece of gauze was taped to his brow and there was an oxygen cannula under his nose.

"T-tim?" he croaked.

Icy blue eyes found me under heavy lids and I stepped around the end of the bed in order to stand on the opposite side of Barbara. Rather than loom above him, I chose to pull up one of the chairs against the wall, nearly smirking at the sight of a crayon colored Get Well card from Nathan.

"I'm here, Dick," I spoke softly enough to wake his wife but hopefully loud enough for him to hear me over the fog.

He smirked, but his lower lip trembled, "I had him… I had him and.. I let him go."

"Dick, don't," I started.

"I had him," he looked to me with his eyes narrowing, "I had him and I… I let my anger get to me. I couldn't stop it. Not after Will. Jim and Maureen... Baby Sarah… Helena… Barbara… Jason."

I reached out and touched his knee, knowing touching his left arm would have been far crueler than what I had dealt Bobo, "I said 'don't'. What you did to the Joker… Dick, he messed up. Left a coat behind that lead me to the house he's been hiding at."

Dick's eyebrows softened, "What?"

As I recounted the night's discoveries, including the apprehension of Bobo, Dick's face lightened and he finally smirked.

He cleared his throat softly before responding, "Wondering who's blood that was."

"What?" After he nodded to my gloved hands, I replied, "I questioned him at the house in Neville… figured I'd let the prison ward at Gotham Memorial put him back together before I finished getting my answers."

"He won't talk," Dick sighed, wincing as he tired to adjust himself against the pillows.

Rising to my feet, I clenched my fists, "Yes. He will."

^V^

Just when I thought things with my Dad couldn't have gotten any worse…

Aside from Alfred returning and my sneaking Terry in Saturday morning, the entire day had been lost to tragedy. Dad had yelled at Nathan. Dad had yelled at Mom. Dad had told us about Jim and Maureen. Dad had told Nathan the truth. Dad had moved out.

Dad had told us about Dick and Will.

After Dad had left for the city with Alfred, I had helped Terry get back to the edge of the property so that he could get home before his father woke up. Before I gave him a leg up over the fence, I made him promise to call me later.

After kissing me quickly, he had smiled, "So pushy."

When I had made it back to the Manor, I decided to hide in my room for the day, seeing how I wanted nothing to do with anyone. As upset as I was about my father's actions, I was still worried for Jim and Maureen. The Joker attacking the Huntress had been sad but since I had never met her, it hadn't hit me as hard as it had the rest of the Family. But I had been to Jim and Mo's house for dinner, for play dates with Ethan and Sarah and just to visit when I was in town with Dick and Barbara.

To think that the Joker, the madman from the files on the Cave's computer and the man responsible for a Robin suit to be in a glass case, had attacked them…

It had been the most terrifying moment of my life.

That was until I had heard that the Joker had shot Will and Dick.

At a little after five, Mom had banged on my door and told me to pack a backpack for things for Nathan and myself to do for the evening. Asking for further detail had lead to no further explanation aside from, "Wear something comfortable."

Since she had spent the entire ride down to the city on the phone, I had been stuck in the back seat with Nathan asking me what was going on. When he asked if we were going to see Dad, I had answered, "You can if you want, but I'm not going to."

He had looked at me from underneath he hood of his sweatshirt, "You don't want to see Dad?"

"Nope," I answered while texting Terry, hoping for salvation.

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Why?"

I glared at my younger brother and snapped, "Because I don't want to! That's why!"

Mom shot me a look in the rearview mirror, "Mattie, that's enough."

There had been two minutes of silence before asking, "Why couldn't I bring Ace?"

Thankfully, Terry texted me back and I was able to have a conversation with a normal person instead of my annoying brother. Made all the more annoying because he knew the truth, at nearly half of the age I had found out.

And Dad had just told him, I had to figure it out practically by myself.

My Family was falling apart.

We arrived at Wayne Tower just before I was going to punch Nathan in the arm for pestering me with questions about Batman and Robin and Nightwing and Batgirl and the Joker and the Riddler and so on. Rather than parking and heading inside, Mom had pulled up to the drop-off zone just as Dad stepped out from the lobby.

"What's going on?" I finally asked Nathan's unanswered question.

"Mattie, I'm sorry, I don't have time t explain… just go with your father, I'll see you later tonight." She had unbuckled herself and stepped out of the driver's seat before opening Nathan's door. After he jumped out, Mom kissed his cheek and told him to behave himself.

"I promise," he had grinned up at her before running around the back of the SUV to tackle Dad, "Dad, I'm starving."

After getting out of the car myself, I had waited for my mother to walk around to join her family. I had shifted the heavy back pack on my shoulders as she wrapped an arm around my back, "I have to leave… you're going to stay with Dad until we meet up later."

"I'm not---," I had started.

Mom leaned over and looked at me in the eyes. That close, I finally realized that she hadn't been angry, she had been sad. Interrupting me, she had spoken sternly, "Mattie… you are staying here, with your father… where it is safe. Understood?"

My stomach had started churning. Something had happened.

"Ready, kitten?" my father's voice had drifted to my ears.

Ready, for what?

We had ridden up in the elevator in near silence, save for Nathan's giggles as he sat on Dad's shoulders. I kept my eyes on the numbers as the rose up through the double digits, stopping at sixty-one.

Entering the penthouse, Dad had let Nathan to the ground, pausing as the boy took flight and began running around the open rooms, screaming in delight. Far less enthusiastic, I had stepped up to stand beside my father, and without looking at him, had asked, "What's going on?"

"I wish I knew," he had sighed before walking to the all and activating the alarm system.

With Nathan spent from his running, he had finally returned to us, gasping for air, "Dad… I want to live here all the time."

"No, tiger," Dad had reached down and picked him up, "We're just here for a little bit… We'll go home tonight."

"Why are we here.. If we're just going back home?" he had asked, shrugging his little shoulders.

Dad's face had hardened before he had said, "Let's go have a seat."

Even though Nathan had known the truth, Dad still went through the motions of sugar-coating what had happened. Even still, it had been difficult to listen to. For Nathan, someone had broken into the Firm and shot Will and Dick. Nathan had asked a barrage of questions, continuing the trend of the day, but Dad hadn't been able to answer most of them.

"Is Dick going to be okay?"

Dad had hesitated before answering, "The doctors are going to fix him… good as new."

For me, it had translated as the Joker had infiltrated the Firm and gunned down Will and Dick in cold blood before making yet another speedy getaway. And the hesitation before answering if Dick was going to be all right…

"Can we go see him?" I had finally asked. Where he and Nathan were sitting together on the love seat, I had been by myself on the couch opposite of them.

"Mom and Barbara are at the hospital now… We'll go over later, after they are out of surgery and---."

"Well, sitting here is stupid," I had interrupted him as I rose to my feet, "We should be there waiting, not here!"

Before Dad had been able to voice his disapproval at my tone, Nathan had jumped up as well, "We have to go see him, Dad, I want to go see Dick."

Two against one.

Even though it had been far more comfortable at the penthouse, it had felt better sitting just down the hall from where Dick and Will were, even if it was on crappy chairs and couches. Dad had ordered dinner for everyone but aside from Nathan and Cass, no one had much of an appetite. I had looked forward to hanging out with Cass while we waited but after the third update on how Dick was doing, she had excused herself.

To walk Frank and Robbie.

More like suiting back up to help Tim…

Lucky.

Since my solo night as a crime fighter, I had done nothing but pray for another taste of it. It was forbidden fruit, as I had promised my parents and Tim that I wouldn't make a repeat performance until I had passed their expectations. Even with all that I had accomplished, judging from the training videos on the Cave computer, I had my work cut out for me.

… _I lost one child to him, Mattie. I won't lose another…_

With Dick laying out on an operating table, I had hoped my father's words were still holding true.

At a little after eleven, Nathan was asleep on the couch with his head in our father's lap, covered with Dad's wool coat. Mom sat on the other side of Dad, her hand entwined with one of his despite the way they had fought all morning. Barbara watched on as Ethan slept in the impromptu bed Dad and Alfred had mustered by pushing to of the armchairs together.

With his plush elephant, pillow and blanket, he was out for the night.

Barbara had remained in her chair for the evening, alternating between checking in at the nurse's station, calling down to Jim's room and trying to get word on Will. Alfred had done his best to aide her, but after Ethan had fallen asleep, Alfred had found himself without anything to do.

I had smiled to see him dozing in the chair.

"Mrs. Grayson?"

I looked up with Barbara to see a short man approaching, removing a blue cotton cap as he looked over the faces in the waiting room. The nurse at the desk had said Dick was the only one in orthopedic surgery, thus making us the only family sitting and waiting.

"Dr. Yeoum…" she smiled briefly.

Mom stood and a moment later, Dad joined her, carefully setting Nathan's head back down on the chair. As they joined Barbara and the doctor, I checked to see Alfred was still sleeping before getting up and joining the adults.

"--- Dick's father, Bruce, his wife, Selina," I had caught Barbara introducing my parents, watching on as they both shook hands with the doctor.

"How is he?" Barbara had then asked.

"The muscle and connective tissue repair went fine… I don't see a cause for concern at this time for a future of limited mobility. We were able to suture the vascular tissue and restore proper blood flow without any sign of necrosis."

My father cleared his throat, "What about the nerves?"

Dr. Yeoum sighed, "The transverse scapular nerve was completely destroyed. I had head of neurosurgery join me… he was able to harvest nerves from his lower leg in order to replace it. If the transplant doesn't hold, we'll have to try replacing it at a later time, after an immobilization period, not to mention once all of the swelling goes down."

"How long…" Barbara began, biting her lip before continuing, "How long will he be immobilized."

The doctor shook his head, "Given that there was such extensive damage to the bone, connective tissue, muscles and nerves, we're looking at leas three months, possibly even five before a secondary operation, followed by another rest period and then several months of rehabilitation."

"Almost a year?" Mom had said softly.

"Optimistically, yes. Far better than the alternative," Dr. Yeoum had said, "He's already in recovery, we'll move him into his room in about a half of an hour… Visiting hours or over but… it's a quiet night… And I'm sure he'd like to see some familiar faces."

When we had been told Dick was set up in his own room, Mom had stayed behind with Alfred, Ethan and Nathan while Barbara, Dad and myself had gone to visit for a bit. I kept thinking back to when Dad had surgery on his knees, how he had woken up groggy and completely out of it.

Before going in, I had found myself grabbing onto Dad's hand tightly. He had squeezed back before leaning over, "It's okay, kitten. He's okay."

And he was.

Dick had been propped up in the gurney, arm folded and bandaged to his torso, but a weak smile had been on his face.

Losing a year of the life he loved was certainly better than the alternative.

^V^


	13. Now And Then: XIII

Title: Now And Then: XIII

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language, adult situations and violence.

Summary: The latest upheaval brings tragedy… and hope.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, I had the chapter about half done when my laptop kicked the bucket so I had to start over…. Serenity now!!!

A/N 2: Nod to the animated World's Finest.

^V^

It wasn't until after I left Dick's recovery room that I realized just how far gone I was.

Rather than beat Bobo unrecognizable, I should have been questioning him, doing anything I could to get an answer out of him. It would have been difficult, time consuming and aggravating but it would have been possible. Instead, I had merely asked him a handful of times where the Joker had been and when he hadn't replied, I had crushed his face.

Helena's ghost had been haunting me since the rooftop.

Jim and Maureen could have died at the Joker's hands.

Will and Dick still could---.

Worry over my father and Dana's safety, of the Joker knowing our true identities, of the impending failure of bringing him in before he brought us down had finally become an unbearable trifecta. I had watched Bruce uphold the mantle against insurmountable odds for years, being pulled in every direction by any number of foes or tragedies. This wasn't to say that I hadn't seen him lose his cool with a suspect or a snitch giving him attitude.

But I had never seen Bruce pummel a man without reason.

In fact, the only time I had witnessed an out of control Batman had been when Jean Paul Valley had been busy perverting the cowl.

I couldn't let myself become that far gone, I couldn't let them down any more that I already had.

I had to pull it together.

When I had been about to leave Dick's recovery room, he had looked up at me, "I'm sorry, Tim… I… I don't know what came over me… Knowing he had been there…"

With the same thoughts coursing my mind, I had simply nodded, "After what he's done… now and… then… I understand."

"If I had been there fifteen minutes earlier," he whispered.

I interjected, "If I had stayed fifteen minutes longer. I would have done the same. I would be laying in that gurney. Or worse."

Dick had looked away from me slowly and when I had realized why, my chest tightened.

He had begun to cry.

After a minute, he had finally whispered, "A year, Tim… I gave up an entire year for a minute of bashing his face in… And I… I can't help but think… that I've given it up for good… if I can't---."

Clenching my fists, I had felt the sticky blood on my gloves while I reflected silently that I had given up our chance at finding the Joker just to bash Bobo's face in.

"Don't," I had set a hand on the railing of the gurney, "Out of all of us, you're the only one that is optimistic about anything… Don't start thinking like we do. Not now."

Dick had reached up with his right hand, wiping his face before looking back to me, "Well, if you insist," he had tried to smirk.

Barbara had stirred in the chair beside the gurney and I took it as my cue to leave. After I had promised him I would drop by in the morning, I had slipped out the window as quietly as I had entered. Gripping the narrow ledge with the toes of my boots, I had taken a moment to look back through the thin curtains. Dick had been smiling at Barbara as she had taken his right hand into one of hers, using the other to gently brush her fingers through his hair.

Somewhere, far below the fear that I had missed something vital in the two hours I spent scouring Joker's hideout, I had wondered where Cassandra was.

I had cautiously navigated along the wall until I came to Will's recovery room. He had been sound asleep with the lights dimmed as a nurse changed a bag of fluids on the IV stand. I would have to wait until morning to speak with him. And it would have been less unsettling if I had done so as Tim Drake.

Upon reaching the cycle, I had hesitated in starting it in order to open a communication line. After a silent moment, I had heard a tired, "Yeah?"

"What's your twenty?"

Batgirl had paused before replying, "On my way back from Bristol, Drakes were okay… Nothing at the Manor. Police are all over Bryce's house. Want me to go to the Firm?"

"No… I'll hit it again before I'm done." With an ounce of relief finding its way into my bloodstream, I had sighed, "Thank you. For going to Bristol."

"Someone had to," she had sighed, then asked, "How are they?"

"Good… I'm going in the morning, they need to get their rest."

Another silent moment passed before I had heard, "Where are you?"

"Just leaving the hospital, I'm going back to Neville… I can't shake the feeling I've missed something."

"Can't see everything, not after what's happened, can't focus, can't think straight, forensics will be---."

Without thinking, I had snapped, "They don't know what the hell to look for. I do."

She had drawn a long breath before replying, "Then go find it."

Click.

I had nearly punched the brick exterior of the building I had parked the cycle by, but the image of Bruce's broken hand had flashed in my mind.

We certainly couldn't afford another injured member in the Family.

Driving nearly as recklessly as I had upon finding out about the Joker's latest attack, I navigated narrow one-way streets and empty sidewalks. Entering the borough of Neville, I mentally prepared for the high-end police activity that would be surrounding the crime scene, not to mention numerous road blocks according to the police scanners.

Good thing Batman had a knack for avoiding the eyes of the police.

A two block radius was barricaded, no one in or out unless they had a badge. According to back and forth communication on the radios, all residents within the perimeter had been taken to headquarters formal questioning. It was doubtful that anyone had seen anything and even if they had, no doubt the Joker had threatened their lives if they uttered a vowel. Predictably, nearly a dozen crime scene vans were parked out front of the pleasant house, with their respected four man crews inside scouring every inch.

Kelsey certainly had a handle on dealing with rogue crime scenes, but it was a shame that the Joker and Harley were the last ones active.

Dick and I used to joke that Arkham should have opened a Retired Rogues wing, catering to the needs of older master criminals. Crossword puzzles for Edward Nygma, water aerobics for Waylon Jones, one-way chess game for Harvey Dent… we had a joke for every single one of them. Bruce had thought it was juvenile and showed that we didn't respect how dangerous our former opponents were. He had been right on some level, but still, it was hard to be frightened by the receding hairline of Jervis Tetch.

Even after I had taken a cowl, I couldn't help but smirk at the thought of Pamela Isle putting on her bi-focal glasses in order to read the latest issue of Fine Gardening.

The only jokes I focused on of late were those left by the Joker.

… _Old clerks never die, they just cash out…_

… _Old bankers never die, they just lose interest…_

… _Old mechanics never die, they just lose their bearings…_

… _Old trombonists never die, they just slide away…_

… _Old tourists never die, they just never come home…_

… _Old Catholics never die, they just get stuck in confession…._

… _Old policemen never die, they just cop out…_

… _Old acrobats never die, they just lose their balance…_

… _I'm… sorry…_

I physically shook my head in order to clear my thoughts as I parked the cycle at a recreation park three blocks from the house. After killing the ignition, I mentally outlined my trek to the house, hopefully without being discovered. Plan in place, I began making my way through backyards, leaping over fences, catapulting off of elaborate jungle gyms and narrowly avoiding being mauled by a small black dog with sharp white teeth. Its yapping called attention of a pair of officers that had been standing in front of its residence but by the time they scanned their flashlights into the backyard, I was long gone.

Using the ancient oak in the adjacent yard as a perch, I overlooked the happenings of the former Tudeski residence carefully. I had a fairly decent view of the front and near side yards but the back yard was out of sight. Activating the zoom and infrared features of the lenses, I was able to catch a few glimpses of forensics working inside on both floors.

Including the room that was a kitchen turned wrestling ring…

With Barbara at Dick's bedside, I had taken it upon myself to check on Bobo's condition. Using the portable computer in the cycle, I was able to access electronic surgical booking chart. He was out of surgery but unfortunately his jaw had been wired shut as a result of multiple facial and manidbular fractures. His arm had also been pinned back together and he was looking at a year or so to regain what mobility he could. Resting comfortably for the time being, I would hopefully be able to drop by later and ask him a few yes-or-no questions.

Before I could relive the fight once more, I heard a number of men yelling loudly for help. It took only a second to find them, their flashlights waving frantically in eh backyard. Somehow, I managed to wait, watching on as darkly garbed, sterile figures ran around the house and poured out of the back door. Even through the group, I was able to see that they were starting to dig into a pile of composting leaves.

As a large mound of dirt was revealed, my gut churned at the thought that they had just found the house's former resident.

Five minutes later, someone called out, "Commissioner, we have a body!"

With ample distraction, I leapt from the tree, racing along the neighbor's fence line in order to stay out of sight. Moving around back, I came to a halt at the sight of discovery, peering through a narrow slat in the wooden fence. Keeping an ear tuned carefully for Kelsey's voice, as well as any other declarations, I waited silently.

She barked for everyone to get the hell out of her way and to have someone call the damned coroner. The two men that had been the first to discover the grave stayed on, carefully revealing the face of the victim. As Kelsey demanded a picture of Tudeski, I glanced down at the pale, dirt covered face.

Knobby nose, too thin cheeks, dirty gray hair, sunken eye sockets… had they tortured him to death as well?

As they cleared more dirt from the head, I realized the hair wasn't dirty, it was actually brown.

An image flashed in my mind and I felt bile rise to my lips.

When Harley and the Joker had escaped from Arkham Asylum on New Year's Eve, they had absconded with a psychiatrist by the name of Alvin Aronoff. When his body hadn't turned up in the first few weeks in January, his fate had been sealed as just another victim of the Joker's chaotic crime spree.

It had been nearly five months since the madness had begun.

No… it couldn't be.

I vaguely heard one of the forensics agents say that time of death was at least five hours ago, given the incomplete rigor mortis on top of the fixed livor mortis, leaving the skin with an purplish tinge from coagulated and stagnant blood.

He had lived under the Joker's reign for five months… and yet five hours earlier, he had died. I was about to take refuge in the tree once more in order to contact Bruce about the latest revelation but I heard a soft voice on the other side of the fence, "Commish, you might want to see this…"

I pressed my face to the fence once more to see a tech hold up a piece of plywood that had been wedged in the ground. Thankfully, Kelsey had taken the time to read it aloud, " 'Here lies Doc, he was the best pet we ever had'. Jesus Christ…"

It was difficult to think that these last few months had been Kelsey's first encounter with the Joker's sick sense of humor when the rest of us had endured it for years.

Kidnapping babies in No Man's Land.

Torturing Jim to see if he could drive him mad.

Shooting Barbara just because she had answered the door.

Beating a young boy within an inch of his life with a smile on his face.

No more jokes. No more games. No more smiles.

This was going to end by my hands, not his.

^V^

Since I was little, everyone had said that I was born to take up my grandfather's profession as a medical doctor.

As a toddler, I had bandaged up my stuffed panther after seeing my parents in the hospital following a car accident. When I had been in kindergarten, I always wanted to take care of my father when he was "ill", not knowing that he was in fact injured or poisoned by his alter ego's foes. The previous summer, I had spent the beginning of vacation taking care of Tim after he was injured in taking down the escaped serial killer Victor Zsasz.

After seeing Dick fighting to maintain consciousness, his left arm and brow wrapped in white gauze, the thought of taking care of another injured member of my Family had brought a foul taste to my mouth.

It wasn't the thought of helping another Family member was upsetting; it was the fact that one had been injured in the first place.

Dick, Will, Jim Jr., Maureen and everyone else the Joker had attacked over the course of the last few months...

When we had finally left the hospital in the wee hours of the night, Mom had decided to go to the Clocktower to watch Ethan and Sarah so Barbara could stay with Dick. I had assumed that meant Nathan and I would be heading home to the Manor with Dad and Alfred but instead, we had been taken to the townhouse. Seeing how I was fairly adept at staying up late, I had sat in the back of the town car with my sleeping brother as Dad and Alfred sat up front. They didn't say anything as we made the short ride to Bryanttown, so with nothing to listen to I opted to stare out at the city.

After my single night of crime fighting had been cut short, Dad had said that I would get another chance, after more training. He had locked my handmade suit costume up in the costume vault, further deterring any escapades. Despite the concern and fear he had expressed, I wanted nothing more than to take to the streets.

At the hospital, I had overheard the doctor telling my parents and Barbara that Dick very well may be out of commission for at least a year, and even then who knew if he would be able to return to the life he once lived.

Gotham needed all the help it could get.

After the Joker, I had to remind myself; after he was taken care of then the Huntress would rise again.

When we arrived at the townhouse, Dad had carried Nathan in while Alfred and I followed. I had expected no one to be home but sure enough Cass opened the front door just as we came up the steps. Once we were inside, she shut the door, pressing her palm on the security panel to activate it.

Locking us in, locking them out.

Without a word, Dad took Nathan upstairs to put him to bed in one of the guest rooms. I had no intentions of sleeping but was fearful that my father was going to enforce it. As Alfred caught Cass up on Dick and Will's condition, I slipped out of the atrium and walked into the den. Robbie was passed out on his thick dog bed, lying on his back with his paws hanging limply in the air. I took a seat beside him and he opened his eyes, licked his lips and then settled again. I began rubbing his belly gently, smiling as his hind legs twitched and his nub of a tail wiggled.

Knowing how goofy and playful the Boxer was, I suddenly wished we had brought Ace.

Although Nathan had not seen what his new hairy best friend was capable of, I had. After they had chosen him, the trainer had showed Nathan the basic obedience commands and then had sent him off with an attendant to play with a litter of chocolate Labrador puppies. Once Nathan was out of sight in the kennel, the trainer had instructed us on the deterrent and attack commands before demonstrating them with the aid of a well padded assistant.

Ace, who had been calmly lying on the ground at his handler's feet leapt up at word, "Gib laut," barking and snapping his teeth. When the trainer said, "Pass auf," Ace had gone into a near frenzy, pulling at the leather leash and standing up on his hind legs at the sight of the padded man.

I had been standing between my parents and the dog and I remembered my father putting a hand on my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.

When the man in the suit had taken off in a run, the trainer barked, "Packen!" before letting the dog go. In less than five seconds, Ace had caught up with the man, leapt in the air, latched onto an elbow before ripping the man to the ground. Although the victim was mock hitting the dog in order to break free, Ace ignored it, shaking his head in an attempt to rip the arm from the body it was attached to.

The second the trainer had called out, "Aus! Fuss!" Ace let go, instantly returning to the happy dog he had been a minute earlier as he trotted back to the trainer, sitting directly in front of him with his tongue lolling out of his big, black head.

On the ride home, I had listened through the elevated radio volume as my mother quietly argued with my father about how stupid it was to get a dog like that. My father had pointed out how the dog had interacted with Nathan, letting him lay on him, rub his belly and take the ball from his mouth.

"Of course," she had snapped back, "A few nice traits outweigh the dozen bad ones… You've been living by that motto for decades."

He had opened his mouth to reply but caught my intent gaze in the rear view mirror.

Whatever he had wanted to say would have to wait until they were out of earshot.

They rarely fought, but lately, it seemed as if that was all they did.

"You know, you don't have to sleep with him, you can use a human bed."

I looked up as Cass walked into den, flipping the overhead light on before standing next to me. After patting Robbie's belly once more, I rose to my feet, "That's okay, not tired anyway."

"You're tired. I've been staring at you for fifteen minutes from the doorway."

To further hinder my credibility, I lost the battle of containing a yawn.

"Okay, I'm tired," I confessed, "But… I can't sleep."

"Sounds like someone I know," she smirked before walking by me, taking a seat on the overstuffed couch. After I joined her, she continued, "He's going to be okay. They both will."

I found myself shrugging but before I could say anything, Dad stepped into the room, "Alfred and I are going to the Manor to get some things… we'll be back in a few hours."

"Is a hairy thing on your list?" I asked, forcing a smirk.

Dad nodded, although he showed no sign of amusement. He glanced at his watch before saying, "You should get some sleep, Mattie, it's going to be a long day."

"Okay," I offered, even though I had no intention of following through.

Without another word, he turned back to the atrium and I listened as he spoke softly with Alfred before the front door opened and closed.

After the car had pulled out of the driveway, I asked, "Where's Tim?"

"The hospital."

"But Dick's sleeping," I began.

Cass shook her head, "No, he's not with Dick. He's interrogating a man that's been working with the Joker… After shooting Dick and Will the Joker left a coat behind as he escaped. Tim used it to track down a house that they had been using as a hideout. There was a ton of evidence… and the Joker's assistant…"

"What evidence was there?"

She hesitated and I wasn't sure if it was because she didn't know if she didn't want to tell me anymore than she already had. Then, after a soft sigh, she replied, "The basement… what he found suggests that's where they had kept Helena… and… then… they found a body in the backyard, it looks like it's the psychiatrist they took hostage when they escaped Arkham."

Any fatigue that I had been enduring seemed to vanish, "They've been at that house all this time?"

Cass shrugged, "It's hard to tell… but they certainly aren't going back there now."

Silence fell between us before she said, "Your dad's right, you should get some sleep."

I glanced at the clock on the far wall to see it was nearly four in the morning.

"Still be out," I said to myself. When she asked me to clarify, I spoke up, "You'd still be out there, you and Dick."

Sitting back into the soft couch, Cass agreed, "We probably would."

"He's all by himself."

She offered, "He can handle it." Her voice had been confident but the look on her face was anything but. When Cass caught my gaze, she was quick to add, "At least for one night."

My intentions were brushed aside after Cass urged me to bed once more. I finally agreed as long as I could make use of her kitchen in the morning to make breakfast for everyone. She lead me to t he guest room across the hall from the one Nathan was sleeping in, closing the door after I went in. Rather than climbing into bed to at least pretend to sleep, I took a seat on the raised chaise by the window.

The house was silent for nearly an hour, not even water running in pipes or snores from across the hall.

Then finally, the back door opened, followed by murmured voices and footsteps.

It was too early for Dad and Alfred to have returned from Bristol and the voice was certainly male… Tim was home.

In the event I was caught, I planned to say I needed a glass of water. With footfalls silenced with skill and socks, I made my way downstairs, following the voices to the kitchen. Finding a safe hiding spot between two tall, narrow bookshelves in the hall outside of the room, I was able to hear perfectly through the open entranceway.

Tim's stated, "They killed him, not long before the Joker went to the Firm. Preliminary cause of death is blunt force trauma to the head… although the body looks like it's been getting rough treatment for quite a while… he was a big man to begin with but he was barely pushing one-fifty… no doubt they starved him for fun."

Cass asked, "What about the house. Anything else?"

"I took as much evidence as I could… most of it will probably be useless but at this point we can't ignore anything… I found a small stash of money in a bedroom dresser; they must have taken the remainder with them."

"Why would they leave any?"

"Exactly," Tim replied, "It wasn't more than a few hundred dollars, so I took it to sort through later. As I was recording everything in the Sat-Cave, I looked through the bills as I was scanning them … That's when I found these."

I heard the crinkle of plastic, no doubt evidence bags, much like the one containing a gun that Tim had dropped in my lap…

"What does it mean?" she finally asked.

"He's ranked us, using the bills to mark our importance."

"There's no Robin."

"And there's no twenty dollar bill… every other bill and every other mask is accounted for."

"Makes sense, I guess… since there _is_ no Robin."

Tim hesitated before responding, "Right… but apparently he was ranked after Batman and Nightwing, making Batgirl and Huntress the ten and five."

"There's no one," she remarked.

"Yes… there were quite a few," another crinkle of plastic, "There's a one for every person that's died since his escape. Huntress' bill was in with them… but Robin's wasn't. I figured it would have made sense that the bill would have been but then again trying to make sense of how the Joker thinks…"

"Was Nightwing's in there, too?" Cass asked.

No," Tim paused, "Which means he knew Dick didn't die, maybe even that he didn't mean to kill Dick at all. Same with Will, there wasn't one to represent him, or Jim and Maureen for that matter. But there were ones to account for the gas station people he killed that night."

"You tell Bruce yet?"

Tim answered, "Not yet, I'll wait for him to get back. Maybe we can go to the Sat-Cave, try and get things back on track. The getaway debacle is on the back burner for now… this…and the house and the psychiatrist… with Dick out, we're going to need his help... on this, anyway."

I was about to sneak back to my room when I felt something cold touch my hand. Even though I knew it had been Robbie, I couldn't help but gasp.

"That is, unless our newest ally doesn't want to take a crack at the evidence," Tim called out.

Crap.

I stepped forward and peered into the kitchen to see Cass standing beside Tim as he sat on the island countertop. Sure enough, there were five evidence bags lying between them, four of them containing individual bills while the fifth had well over a hundred. Stepping closer, I used my peripheral vision to see that someone had drawn stick figures on the individual bills with a purple marker.

After clearing my throat, I apologized, "Sorry, I just wanted to get a glass of water."

Tim nodded, "It's okay… it's in your genes to be curious… and sneaky."

I retrieved the unnecessary glass of water and downed it to demonstrate my false thirst. After putting the empty glass in the dishwasher, I said, "Well… Dad will be here in an hour… might as well start breakfast."

Tim hopped off of the countertop before returning the bags of evidence to a small over the shoulder satchel. I would have made a joke that the black bag was a Bat-man purse but it didn't seem right.

After all, it was Dick's job to be the comic relief.

I was the caretaker.

The Huntress.

And the future Dr. Wayne.

^V^

The last thing I had seen was the Joker's face, grinning down at me and I couldn't help but think that his was going to be the last one to pass in front of my eyes.

When I woke to a woman in light blue scrubs flashing a light in my eyes, I had to suppress the urge to kiss her… not that I had the physical ability to do so but I certainly had the will.

Given how blurry everything had looked and sounded, I felt it had been safe to assume that I was making my way out of anesthesia. When the older woman's face danced in front of my inoperative eyes once more, I had gargled Leslie's name, thinking I was at the Clinic and she was making me all better. As it turned out, her name had been Maggie and she was my night nurse in the post-operative orthopedic recovery unit.

The next thing had gurgled had been Barbara's name.

"Your wife is in the waiting room, along with the rest of your family… but let's get you a little bit more awake first," she had smiled warmly.

After a few more unintelligible sounds, I had closed my eyes, happy that the Joker wasn't going to be the last image burned into my mind.

When I was able to keep my eyes open and answer a few questions, my already stable vitals had earned me a brief visiting period. Faces floated above me and I felt a number of different hands grip my right arm, confused that no one was touching my left. When I tried to look down at it, I was confused to see it was missing.

No…

Wait, my mind had called out, Remember what the doctor said, it's just wrapped up in a sling, it's going to be okay.

What about Will?

Just as the faces had appeared, they had disappeared, save for Barbara. She had taken a seat in the chair beside my gurney, her hand never leaving mine. I had so much to ask her, so much I wanted to say but I could barely keep my eyes open let alone form coherent sentences. When I finally managed to say Will's name, she assured me that he was down the hall, recovering form his own surgery.

She had told me to go to sleep, promising not to leave me, the same promise I had made her at the gun range.

At some point in the night, I had managed to open my heavy lids again, but rather than Mattie blowing me a kiss there had been a dark, caped figure in my room and the odor of a hard night of fighting crime: namely sweat and blood.

Tim.

I wasn't sure if it had been the time that had passes or his intimidating presence, but I found myself alert for the first time that night.

I had blamed myself for what happened. He had blamed himself. We had agreed to agree.

When morning broke, I had felt pain for the first time since the Joker had pulled the trigger, a throbbing, blinding pain radiating through my chest and back. Most would have been frightened but I found myself smiling. Pain meant I was alive, pain meant the nerves were working, pain meant I would live to fight another day.

Barbara was still in the chair beside me, her head lolled onto her shoulder as he hand gently gripped the edge of the gurney. I had no idea what time it was and given my watch was with the rest of my bloodied personal effects, I began to scan the room. With no clock in sight, I had decided I would be able to lean forward and grab Barbara's Blackberry as it sat by my leg.

Doing it myself would spare me her wrath since I wouldn't have interrupted her slumber.

My plan would have worked had I not screamed in agony the second I moved.

Collapsing as gently as possible, I noticed that Barbara's eyes as they snapped open, her hands instantly reaching for me. Forcing air through my nose, I tried to appease her by saying, "Sorry… forgot I was broken."

"Idiot," she growled, "You can't move yet… if you need something ask."

"You were sleeping," I said, not surprised that the pain in my chest and back had yet to subside, "Figured inflicting pain on myself… was better than if you inflicted it…"

"You try and sit up again, and I will inflict pain on you…" she threatened but there was too much concern in her voice for it to be taken seriously. When I grumbled an inquiry as to where Ethan was, she seemed to relax, sitting back into the chair, "Selina watched him last night at the Clocktower, along with Sarah."

I nodded, knowing my boy was safe his granny. "How's Will?" I needed something, anything, to replace the last image I had of him in my mind: bleeding to death on the floor of his office.

"Good… The recovery reception board says he's going in for another CTscan this morning…"

"Why?" I asked, my throat screaming for water but I didn't want to bother her anymore than I had.

"I spoke with Ronna late last night, she said they managed to stop the bleeding in his abdominal cavity but they wanted to see how his spleen and stomach faired post-op."

I drew in a long breath, "He's okay, though… right?"

"Yeah," she yawned, "He's okay."

Suddenly, loud voices from the hall startled the both of us, raising my pulse and blood pressure, sending the monitors into a minor frenzy. After quickly moving into her wheelchair, Barbara crossed the room, pushing the door open enough to peer outside. "There's a few guys arguing with the cops on guard…"

I heard the distinct tone and inflection of one of the guys and smiled. Barbara looked at me with confusion and I was quick to explain, "Go out there and save Trey before he gets his dumb ass thrown out of the hospital."

Sure enough, the ruckus had been brought about by Trey and several of my former colleagues from the Bludhaven homicide unit. In place of the standard balloons, flowers and get well cards, they brought me a riot shield, hockey helmet and a white tee shirt with a bull's eye printed on it.

"Richard the Brave," the burly Frank Hardy sighed, "How many times do I have to tell you, when they're shooting at you… Duck, Dick!"

I shrugged with my right shoulder, "It's been so long… guess I forgot."

Knowing Barbara deserved a quiet morning to refresh rather than listen on to their antics, I told her if she wanted to go home, it was okay. She promised to return with a bouncing baby boy.

Left in the less than capable hands of my favorite men in blue, I endured a few minutes of jesting and half-assed sympathetic gestures and jests before things had grown serious. Men I had once considered to be my brothers were just as upset that I had been shot as Tim had seemed. They made offers to help out at the Firm until I was back on my feet, in addition to doing whatever they could to help bring down the clown who had taken me out.

"I would leave that to the professionals," I sighed, "At least they look better in tights than Sarge would."

Trey shuddered at the mental image of our former supervisor in al his burly glory.

Not long after, the men were escorted out by a new nurse, saying I was being overwhelmed and needed my rest. Although the others had complied after shaking my hand and wishing me well, when she tried to ask Trey to leave, he had flashed his badge at her.

"I am the personal body guard of this man, wherever he goes, I go. He gets a shot of morphine, I get one. He gets a sponge bath, I get one."

When she looked to me, I simply nodded, "He's fine… he can stay."

The remainder of the morning was a blur of talking with Trey in between visits from doctors and nurses alike, in addition to randomly falling asleep. He disclosed that he hadn't heard about the attack on Jim and Maureen until after my ill fate had been broadcasted since he had been at home and not the station. Apparently little CJ Richardson had been wrought with a nasty cold and he had taken leave from work to stay home with him.

Despite the fact that he was a legal killing machine, he was a good dad. And a better friend.

After a nurse had changed my IV fluid bags, he stood at my bedside, "God damnit Dick… I don't like hearing your name in the same sentence with 'the Joker shot'…" He had abruptly turned away, coughing before rubbing the back of his hand over his eyes, "I mean… You're a hero. But there's no point in being a dead one."

"Not dead, Trey," I offered weakly, "Just tender."

When he had turned to me again, his eyes were glassy, "Tender… like my wife's---."

"Meatloaf?" I offered.

He let his gaze drop to the gurney's railing before continuing, "Dick… promise me something?"

"Anything. Well, almost anything."

Trey had looked through my false attempt at lightening the mood and replied, "Live long enough to come to your godson's high school graduation. In one piece."

"Not college?" I had chided.

Finally, he smiled, "My boy's going into the academy, he's going to shoot bad guys."

He chose to leave when Alfred, Selina and Cass had arrived with the kids, but promised to be back later in the day. Not long after, I was due for a bandage change and my limited visiting hours were over. Wary that Trey was in the hall pretending to read Cosmopolitan magazines, I had done my best to contain my screams as they cleaned, irrigated and flushed the drainage tubes with heparin, all before applying a new wet to dry bandage.

Thankfully, when it was all over, Barbara and Ethan had arrived to make it all go away.

My saviors.

With my little boy sitting with me, playing with a toy police car on my legs, I fought exhaustion and asked Barbara what time it was.

She joked, "What, you don't want to rip your arm off reaching for my phone again?"

"Uh, no." When she had announced it was nearly two in the afternoon, my brow rose in confusion, "Only two? Seems later."

"You spent last night coming out of anesthesia, messes up your perception of time."

As Ethan began crashing his toy car into my kneecaps, a knock sounded at the door and I looked up expecting to see either Bruce or Tim. My heart sank when it was neurosurgeon, stopping by to poke needles in the fingers of my left hand. The pain had ebbed throughout the day, thanks to whatever the nurses injected into my IV catheter at four hour intervals.

I had done my best to block out some of the words he used, such as "additional nerve graphs", "extensive immobility periods" and "hopeful chance of full recovery". Nodding and assuring him I would be up for an appointment at eight the next morning, I convinced myself that I was fine. Then again, with Ethan in my lap going "vrrom vroom" and Barbara gently rubbing my good shoulder, how could I not be?

A soft buzzing sound drew my attention to Barbara and I watched as she retrieved her phone from her purse. Answering it, she glanced up at me and smiled, "Hold on… It's for you."

Taking the phone in my right hand, I held it up to my ear, "Hello?"

"What part of rescuing me was supposed to involve you getting shot?" Will asked quietly.

I grinned before replying, "Hey, I wasn't about to let you get all the attention… or the time off."

Will offered a dry laugh before asking, "Does healing from a bullet wound count as paid time off?"

"Time off? You've got both of your arms, you're expected back in the office on Monday, pal."

He paused, dropping the humor from his voice, "Damn good to hear your voice, Dick."

"You too, man," I couldn't fight the image of him lying in a pool of his own blood, "You too."

^V^

"Can I bite you?"

Ethan giggled and shook his head.

"Can I kiss you?"

The giggles grew louder as he nodded.

I leaned over and kissed my not-grandson's chubby little cheek as he sat in his high chair. Sarah protested in my lap, reaching up and grabbing onto my chin. After sitting upright, I looked down at her, asking both questions and waiting for her responses.

As I kissed her cheek, Ethan began to whine.

"And this is why we waited six years to have Nathan," I said before putting more Cherrios onto his tray. It was all I was willing to give him considering he had already devoured two yogurt cups, two pancakes and half of a banana. The little man could certainly pack it away, just like his daddy.

While he put his little fingers to work, I resumed giving Sarah the rest of her yogurt before letting her feed herself the rest of her pancake cubes. They had been up since a little after eight, and after double duty of changing diapers and washing up, it was finally breakfast time. I had taken over toddler duty so that Cassandra could watch over my own children at the townhouse. Although I hadn't been able to sleep myself, I had been more than happy to watch on as Ethan and Sarah dreamt the remaining hours of the night away.

"All-duh," Sarah shook her head and pushed away the spoon in my hand.

"Okay, how about some more milk?" I asked holding up the small sippie cup.

Rather than reach for it herself, Sarah let me hold it up to her lips, gently sucking on the mouthpiece. When she pushed that away, she let go, she repeated herself, "All-duh."

"All done?" I asked as I began wiping her face.

"Okay," she replied.

I set her down on the hardwood floor where thankfully Frank was ready to entertain her. She patted his head a little too hard, flattening the wrinkles as she rambled to his flat face. I turned my attention to Ethan, "All right, big man, let's finish our milk, too."

"Fwahn!" he called out, doing his best to look down at the floor where Sarah and Frank were sitting.

"Milk, first, then you can have all the Frank you want."

"Fwahn," he repeated, "Okay, tucka tucka."

After getting the last two sips of milk into him and his face and hands clean, I helped him out and put him beside his cousin and canine uncle. Listening to their garbled conversation and giggles, I cleaned the table off, collected the dishes and quick trip into the kitchen. Returning, I smiled to see that Ethan was poking Frank's little nose while Sarah was trying to grab onto his equally little tail.

"You are the best dog in the whole world," I offered him, "And from me, that's saying a lot."

Before I could lure them into the dining room for some less furry entertainment, I heard the front door open. Stepping back into the hall, I glanced towards the atrium, surprised to see Barbara shedding her coat.

"What are you doing here?"

Barbara glanced up and offered a tired smile, "Don't know how to start my morning without changing a diaper or getting banana in my hair."

"Well, you're too late for either… but after their feast, I'm sure you'll get your wish," I said before returning to the dining room. Picking up Sarah, I made my way to the den, hearing Ethan's little footfalls and giggles in pursuit. He paused at the sight of his mother and then proceeding to squeal her name before running down the hall towards her. I chose to wait for her in the den, taking a seat on the floor with Sarah before pulling a little Etch A Sketch off of the coffee table.

Just as Sarah began drawing, Barbara entered the room with Ethan in her lap, his arms locked around her neck. I smiled to see that even Frank was heeling to the left of her wheelchair.

I suddenly wanted my little boy in my arms.

"How's Dick?" I asked as Barbara fought to untangle herself from Ethan's arms.

Once she was victorious, she managed to turn him around so he could sit on her lap, "Good… vitals are normal, suture sites are clean, drainage is normal… He has an evaluation with the neurosurgeon this afternoon so I figured I'd come home, shower, change, eat something outside of the hospital cafeteria."

Knowing better, I stated, "Dick sent you home."

"He may have strongly suggested it," she smirked before yawning, "That and I wanted to help Maureen out, she and her mom and sister are packing things from the house, at least what hasn't been destroyed or marked for evidence. And they wanted to see little Miss Sarah."

"When are they leaving for Chicago?" I asked as I glanced down at the little angel sitting before me.

"Her mom is going to take Sarah with her when she leaves tomorrow… They'll leave depending on when Jim is discharged and cleared to fly," she answered, a sad look befalling her face. When she caught me looking, Barbara nodded, "It's for the best, for their safety."

I sighed before responding, "I'm waiting for Bruce to teleport us to the Watchtower."

Barbara offered, "It certainly is safe than Gotham."

Rolling my eyes, I countered, "Please… how many times a week does some megalomaniac try and blow that place up?"

"No more than some megalomaniac trying to blow up Gotham. Or Metropolis. Or Keystone---."

"Touché," I cut her off. Changing the subject, I asked, "Any idea where my wayward husband is?"

She nodded before setting Ethan down on the floor. He walked along the coffee table before plopping down next to a stuffed duck, grabbing it as he quacked to himself.

"Cass called as I was leaving the hospital, said that Nathan was still sleeping but Mattie was up making breakfast for everyone. Bruce and Alfred had just pulled in, but she said that Bruce left after checking in on the kids…"

"For the penthouse?"

She shook her head, "Satellite Cave with Tim. He made a pretty big find last night, a house the Joker had been using as a hideout. Also apprehended the one and only Bobo… he pulled so much evidence that he wanted Bruce to take a look at it, make sure he didn't miss anything."

"You'd think after all this time he'd stop second guessing himself," I said aloud, instantly regretting it.

Surprisingly, Barbara agreed, "I know… and he has no reason to… Even with all of the evidence he found, no doubt he hasn't missed anything… he's just wants to find the one seemingly insignificant fraction of a clue that is going to bring the Joker down…"

The clue, as Bruce would have said, that wasn't there.

I waited to reply, "Well, with Harley shot and Bobo in custody, it leaves just the Joker, right?"

She nodded, "As far as we know… he may have more help that he hasn't tapped into yet… But it's good to know that our numbers aren't the only ones dwindling."

We watched as the kids played independently, Ethan's quacks and the clatter of Sarah drawing on the plastic board filling the silence of the room.

Barbara then said, "Will's ex and his kids arrived this morning. He said thanks for giving them a lift. That when he was better he'd wash a few cars to pay for it."

I smirked, "Even in the ICU he's a wiseass… no wonder he and Dick get along so well… Bet that made him happy."

"Well, seeing his girlfriend and his daughters, the ex, not so much. Guess he faked passing out to get her out of the room."

I smiled, not at Will Cutting's antics, but the fact that he was well enough to carry them out.

"Speaking of immature associates of my husband, I woke up this morning to a fight in the hallway… Trey and a few guys from Bludhaven were yelling at the armed guards on the floor, trying to get in to see Dick." She smiled, "I had to go out and break it up… I didn't even think to call him after Dick was shot, he found out through the poh-poh grapevine."

"News travels fast on that," I said.

"Especially of the bad variety… the rest of the guys left when I did but Trey decided to stay, make sure Dick behaves himself."

"I was wondering who you left on duty." After a moment, I stated, "All right, I'll watch these bouncing, bundles of joy while you get ready… Then, I think maybe I'll take the kids to see Dick… maybe take Will's girls out to lunch… If you want I'll take Ethan---."

"It's okay, I'll take him… Besides, rumor has it a certain recent arrival to Gotham wanted to spend some time with him."

I smirked, "A certain recent arrival who yelled at me yesterday morning?"

"Alfred yelled at you?"

I sighed, "Bruce and I were fighting after he got home from the Clocktower… which just so happened to be right before Alfred pulled up the drive. He decided that our fight was getting out of hand, barged into the master bedroom and told us to knock it the hell of… only in Alfred-ese. Bruce was shocked just to see him that he had to pick his jaw up off of the floor."

Barbara smirked, "I can only imagine… I'm glad he's back… he's the only that can keep us all in line," she reached down as Frank stood up on his hind legs, begging for adult human affection, "Frankly, I'm surprised he waited this long to come back."

"I know he's been considering it for a while, and after Helena died… he really didn't have a choice."

At that, I shooed her out of the den, telling her she stank of worry and hospital. As she showered, I did my best to tire Ethan and Sarah out, from chasing them around the coffee table, pushing them on the little train car up and down the hall and dancing along with the all too active kid's show, Yo Gabba Gabba. Thankfully, Mattie and Nathan hadn't been young enough when it first came out.

Even though she had resisted, I got the kids changed and packed a doubly prepared diaper bag while she ate. When she reached the atrium, asking what needed to be done, she smiled to see the two kids were already wearing sneakers and jackets.

"How did you manage this in fifteen minutes?" she asked, doing nothing to hide her amazement.

"Please, your kind and your useless interrogations," I replied as leaned over to straighten the sleeve of Sarah's jacket.

"Right you are, how foolish of me," she commented.

Once I had helped her down to the garage and loaded the chatty children into the backseat, I told her to call if she needed me later that afternoon. Even though she said she would, I knew I wouldn't hear from her for the rest of the day. After all, entry into our twisted Family required strict independence.

Alone, I drove to the townhouse, a full driveway forcing me to park on the street. The town car was parked beside a dark gray Lexus sedan, one I often saw out and about in Bristol. Before getting out, I decided to make my sleep deprived self look somewhat presentable. Touching up day old make up and running a comb through my hair, I topped off the minute makeover with a single spray of perfume.

My reflection in the visor mirror had marginally improved, especially when I added a fake smile.

I opted to knock on the front door, not knowing what was waiting for me within. When the door pulled back, Nathan greeted me with a grin, sans a lower incisor that I hadn't even known was loose. "Morning," I greeted him.

"Mom, where have you been?" he exclaimed.

After stepping into the atrium, I leaned over and picked him up, even though he was much bigger than the little boy I had held earlier that morning, "I've been at Barbara and Dick's house watching Ethan and Sarah."

"But you're staying here now, right?" he asked.

"Yes, Mr. Missing Tooth, I am."

He grinned again, this time sticking the tip of his tongue through the gap, "It came out when I was eating breakfast, it wasn't even that loose yet…"

"Did it hurt?" I asked before kissing his brow.

Nathan shook his head, "Nah…"

"That's my boy… Where is everyone else?" I asked before setting him down.

"Tim's parents are in the den with Cass… Alfred's in the kitchen and Mattie went to shower upstairs… I don't know where Dad is," he shrugged.

"I'm sure he'll show up later… Was there a suitcase in your room when you woke up?"

After he nodded, he smiled, "So was Ace, he's out back with Robbie right now…"

I asked him to pick out an outfit and I would be up in a minute to help him wash up and get ready.

"Get ready for what?" he had asked, putting his hands on the hips of his wrinkled Babar pajama pants.

"We are going to go see your big brother."

"Are we going to wait for Dad to get here?"

Knowing it would be dark before Bruce and Tim emerged, I shook my head, "No, Nate… but we'll see him later…"

He then asked innocently, "Then we'll go home?"

"Yes… then we'll go home."

^V^

A little after noon, my eyes were burning and my temples were throbbing.

It wasn't the fact that I was sleep deprived, hungry or constantly worrying about the welfare of my Family. It was because I had spent the entire morning studying the evidence left behind by my oldest and greatest nemesis, clues and decoys he had left behind for Batman.

No… for me.

Since the Joker had first reared his hideous head at the pharmacy back in February, coincidentally on my birthday weekend, I had been unable to ignore the fact that I was what he was after. Not Batman… just me. Upon learning our identities by torturing Helena Bertinelli to death, he had indirectly attacked me through my Family members, working peripherally and no doubt intending to get much closer before he was through.

Although we had discussed it briefly while he had still been in Africa, I found the words falling from my lips once more as Alfred and I returned to the Manor that morning. Outside of obtaining extra clothing for the kids and my wife, I was heading to Bristol to retrieve Nathan's dog in addition to some supplies from the Cave. While he had tended to matters in the house, I had quickly made my way to the study and down granite steps into near darkness.

Letting the computer revive itself from a dormant state, I listened to the news reports about the attack on DJG Security while searching the costume vault. As it was declared that both victims were in stable condition and that the police had not commented on any possible leads, I had been packing a large duffel bag with Dragon Armor, gas pellets, batarangs, portable Oracom radios in addition to bolos and restraints.

If he wanted me, he could come get me.

"Master Bruce?"

Without looking up, I had zipped the bag up and asked, "What?"

"Master Tim called while I was… upstairs. He inquired if you would join him at his own hidden bungalow."

Deep down, I had known Alfred was simply trying to lighten my mood, something his mere presence should have accomplished given how long he had been away. Instead, I had snapped back, "Fine, drop me off on the way… take their belongings to the townhouse."

"Very well, sir."

Shouldering the bag, I had followed him out of the vault before locking it behind me.

Without hesitation, he had asked, "Are we preparing for action, Master Bruce?"

As much as I wanted to snarl at him again, I found my tone fearful rather than fear inducing, "Alfred… he's closing in… Even with Tim and Cassandra still standing, I can't help but think that he'll find a way to get to me. He's already done so much damage with so little effort… It's been coming down to this the entire time…"

"This, sir?"

"Me… and him."

He had looked down briefly before responding, "I know it is difficult to ignore your greatest fear---."

"I'm not afraid of him, Alfred," I had growled, "I'm afraid of what he'll do to get to me."

"True, sir… of which is your greatest fear. Those around you falling at his hands, leaving no one to defend this city… and yes, it is plausible that his actions to date have been eradicating all those that stand in his path to you… but if this is the case, than why are the Gordons still breathing? Not to mention Mr. Cutting and Master Dick. His actions suggest he is trying to unnerve you, to put you in the mindset he desires most."

"Angry," I had found myself whispering aloud.

With a curt nod, he had replied, "Precisely, sir."

Luggage and German Shepherd in tow, Alfred had driven us back into the city, stopping on an empty street in Bryanttown in order to drop me off. I had walked the two blocks to the Sat-Cave, unable to control the instinctual glances over my shoulder. The entrance had been modified from when I had built the station, requiring a palm and voice verification on what appeared to be a broken intercom box. Rather than swing inwards, the door had recessed into the left wall before granting me access.

Tim had his back to me as he organized countless plastic bags on three stainless steel tables. Aside from altering the entrance, he had also reorganized the layout of the eighty by sixty first floor room. The computer area had been moved to the far right corner between a small medical bay with a rumpled gurney and a small fridge, counter and microwave. The remainder of the space had been equally divided between matted training area and what appeared to be a grotesque collection of months of evidence. Large, white dry erase boards had pictures, maps and news clipping secured with small magnets, scribbled notes filling what white was left. Aside from the horse shoe arranged tables he had been standing at, there had been four more set up, chronologically displaying what little evidence he had managed to collect.

Moving closer, I had noticed one white board had nothing but the Old Jokes.

"Bob have anything to say?" I had asked, surprised when he had jumped slightly.

He had set a bag containing a dollar bill down before turning to face me, "They wired his jaw shut… even still, he wasn't up to talking yet… they have him loaded with morphine… not that he deserves it."

Barbara, trying to distract herself from her husband undergoing surgery, had accessed BoBo's medical intake chart and forwarded it to me. Tim had obviously let his anger get to him as he had crushed the man's mandible in addition to shattering eight teeth, five bones in his wrist and obliterating the elbow joint.

I had done similar, if not worse, to a number of my foes, but trying to imagine Tim using such excessive force had brought a foul taste to my mouth.

Surprisingly, he had not being wearing any piece, but rather jeans and a fitted tee shirt in addition to a clean shaven jaw. This had made the scowl on his face stand out in the fluorescent lighting all the more. As I had approached the table, he had begun to explain, "The house was a wreck, they could have easily been there for a few weeks, maybe even this entire time but I doubt it. Kelsey's had detectives canvassing the neighborhood, no one saw or heard anything… figured the owner of the house had found a new buyer that wasn't too social…"

I had scanned over the bags which contained anything from bloodied kitchen forks to dirty socks. As Tim rehashed his walkthrough of the house, I had listened intently while visually matching evidence to his words. When he explained finding the money marked with stick figures, he handed the bills to me, the scowl on his face lightening to a frown.

"There wasn't a Robin," he had stated.

I had thought to myself that there wasn't a Robin in real life either as I looked over each of the bills.

"It doesn't make sense, on the rooftop, he had alluded to knowing I was Robin with the graduation remark… he knew that I wasn't the real Batman."

Looking up, I had corrected him, "Tim, you are the real Batman."

Something happened in his eyes and he looked down at a larger bag of singles, "I know, but to him it will always be you."

I had no argument to offer so I had kept my mouth shut.

By ten in the morning, we had made it half way through scanning the evidence into the computer. As Tim had gotten up to make coffee, the system had had automatically brought up the preliminary coroner's report for the late Dr. Alvin Aranoff. Neglecting his quest for caffeine, Tim had taken a seat at the single chair at the console before reading through the pertinent details aloud.

"Fingerprints matched, it's him… blunt force trauma to the head combined with malnutrition, numerous contusions over this body… no sign of poison in his system but most of the blood work hasn't come back yet…"

"Poison?"

"I had figured the Joker would have done something else to him, to keep him to stay for that long," he had remarked without looking over his shoulder at me.

"He had family in the city… no doubt the Joker threatened them rather than the doctor himself."

After another two hours, we had accomplished little aside from loading evidence and tagging it in the system before backing it up to the crays. It wasn't until Tim had turned the news on once more that I had realized I had failed to check in with Selina to see how Dick and Will were doing. Alfred was right, the Joker wanted me angry but he also wanted me to be equally distracted.

"I'm starving," Tim said suddenly.

"No doubt Alfred's still at the townhouse," I offered.

He nodded, fighting a yawn, "Yes, in my recently stocked kitchen… dangerous and tasty combination."

We agreed to head back, taking a break before resuming making order out of chaos. Upon arriving at his house, we were greeted with a lunch buffet set up in the kitchen, freshly prepared by my daughter and her British mentor. While Tim joined Mattie, Alfred and Cassandra in the kitchen, I followed the sound of my son's laughter to the den. He was lying on the floor, using his massive dog as a pillow as he watched a CGI movie while his mother was dozing on the couch.

At the sight of me, Nathan leapt to his feet, bringing the dog to an alert sitting position, "Daddy, you're back!"

Selina jumped slightly looking around the room before finding me, with Nathan's arms wrapped around my waist. I nodded at her and she offered a tired smile.

After disengaging myself, Nathan resumed to watch the movie alongside his new best friend. I chose to sit beside Selina, lowering my voice before asking, "How are they?"

"Good, Will had another scan this morning but there's no sign of internal bleeding… Dick's nuero-evaluation went well, still has great pain response in all of his fingers… not to mention his shoulder."

"Pain is good."

"I'll keep that in mind," she glanced up at me.

"Barbara's at the hospital, I take it?"

She looked down at Nathan before answering, "Yeah, although she did come to the Clocktower earlier to shower and change, get some real food… Maureen's mom took Sarah so I'm only on Ethan duty."

"Where is he?"

Selina nodded to the open archway in the rear of the room, "Upstairs taking a nap. I'm going to take him back over to see Mama and Dada later tonight… Have you been over there yet?"

I shook my head.

"You should go see him, Bruce… now that the drugs have worn off."

"I have to get back to---."

Sharp nails dug into my kneecap before she repeated herself, "You should go see him, Bruce."

After clearing my throat, I replied, "I should."

Rising from the couch, Nathan looked up and asked, "Where are you going, Dad?"

"I have to run out and take care of some things. I'll be back in a while."

"But you just got here," he complained.

"I know… but I'll be back, then we can go home."

He reclined back on to Ace's broad chest, a pout forming, "Okay."

For far too long had I brought similar looks to my children's faces, even if it was in their best interest.

Yelling at Nathan when he only wanted to surprise me by jumping out of a hiding place.

Telling Mattie the truth about my past, bringing three dreaded words from her lips.

Reminding Tim he was Batman, who after so many years was still in my shadow.

Telling Jason he lacked discipline and that his arrogance would get him killed someday.

Firing Dick during his first year as Robin, trying to protect him after nearly losing him to Two-Face.

My only goal in life was to protect them.

What a fine job I had done.

^V^

Fool.

Foolish.

Tomfoolery.

Tom Brokaw.

Heh.

"Puddin'… I think I need a doctor."

"Are you still complaining about your arm, that was like… a week ago," I moaned.

A week ago all had been well in the world. I had turned Jim Gordon's only son's house into Swiss Cheese, played catch with the eldest and possibly my most favorite of Batsy's boys and had made off without so much as a single siren.

That was until the Hummer had died, we had been shot at in our newly acquired getaway car and had been forced to ride in BoBo's smelly van. It wasn't that it smelled bad, but it was a florist van he had "borrowed" and it was just plain smelly. Although the next day had promise to be better, it hadn't. We had to put down dear old Doc after finding him sending a letter out his bedroom window and into t he neighbor's yard. After burying him and having a brief service, it had been back to business.

BoBo had stayed behind to pack up any necessary belongings, seeing how we had to move given all the memories of Doc the house had left us with. Harley had driven me into town in florist van, dropping me off for a quick errand at DJG Security. The mix-up with some random employee had been bad enough, but then to have been stabbed by the Boy Blunder before a good pummeling had just put me in a foul mood.

What was possibly worse is that when I had made it home, Harley had questioned my actions while bandaging my arm and icing my face. She had the nerve to ask why I hadn't killed him out right if I had only one bullet left.

After moving in close to her, pressing my nose to hers, I had growled, "I've known that brat since before his voice changed. If I wanted to kill him, do you honestly think I would just shoot him?"

Harley had stammered, "Uh, no?"

"Of course not… he deserves a far better exit from this wretched world. Besides, killing little boy Black and Blue is not part of the plan is it?"

She shook her head

Within forty-eight hours it had gone from the best of times to the worst of times.

And still Harley was complaining about her stupid gunshot wound. If she hadn't wasted time stopping at a stop sign, that mad man with a gun walking his dog wouldn't have shot her so really it was her own fault…

Our new residence was in a less flashy part of town but one that certainly wasn't a stranger to the lifestyle of the criminal and crazy. Regrettably, we had lost BoBo to BatBoy's keen detective skills and his kung fu action moves, leaving us with a quaint two bedroom abode overlooking a little place called Crime Alley. It wasn't much of a view but you couldn't beat the rich historical attributes and blood-curdling screams in the middle of the night.

Harley was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, gently pulling off soiled bandages from her upper arm, wincing and sniffling quietly.

Entering the bathroom wearing a swell robe I had absconded from our previous residence, I bent over, "All right, let's have a look… phew, that stinks!"

"I think it's infected…" she started to cry.

"How can that be, haven't you been taking those pills I gave you?"

"Yeah, puddin', but… they're Flinstone vitamins… it's not real medicine…"

I rolled my eyes, "Of course it is! Why would it have a child proof lid it wasn't real medicine?" When a confused look came over her pale face, I smiled, "Precisely, my sweet."

The tears running down her cheeks, collecting at her pixie chin somehow had forced my smile to fade. Realistically, she was all I had left at that point… and two functioning arms were certainly better than one.

Unless you were Captain Hook, then it would be bad for your image.

"Oh, all right… But we can't go to a hospital…"

"Because of all the cops," she sniffled as she rose to her feet.

I laughed, "No, no, no… because it's expensive. The Free Clinic, on the other hand… well , that's for free. We'll go there…"

"Really?" she asked, a smile starting to form on her chapped lips.

Perhaps I should have taken her earlier… she certainly had lost her dazzling good looks… on top of the foul odor wafting off of her arm. "Really, Harley."

"I'd hug you, Puddin', if I could lift my arm," she hopped up and down, fighting off a wince.

"I'd hug you if… let's just go."

Seeing how the floral car was for business use only, we opted to walk the six blocks through Gotham's roughest neighborhood, made only rougher given that it was nearly one in the morning. Thankfully, we only came across a trio of bums taking a nap on a string of park benches, and rather than wake them, Harley and I tiptoed by.

When we had reached the corner, I had decided to make use of the firecrackers in my pocket, lighting them before making a rude but endlessly fun early wake up call.

Reaching the Free Clinic, I was surprised to see the waiting area was full, not a seat in sight. Generally, whenever I walked into a public place, even in lame garb such as the jeans and polo shirt with Winnie the Pooh's face embroidered on the left side, I was greeted with screams and calls for help. Oddly enough, not a single soul appeared to recognize me, far too concerned with their own wounds and woeful lives.

To each his own, I supposed.

I stepped up to an old woman, who was obviously on her way out anyway and politely asked her to give up her seat for Harley. She had promptly stabbed at me with a bony finger and told me to get some manners. The appropriate response would have been to snap her wretched old neck before tossing her off of a thirty story building, paralyzed but alive enough to watch the fall to her death.

Instead, I smiled apologetically and told her to have a nice day.

Wrapping an arm around Harley, who appeared to be fighting back shivers, I approached the reception desk, which was ridiculously situated behind bulletproof glass, and cleared my throat.

"My lovely assistant here has suffered a gunshot wound and requires immediate attention."

Without looking up, the woman in pink scrubs continued typing jargon into the computer before her, "When did this happen?"

"Last week. Right kiddo?"

Harley nodded, her eyes glassier than usual.

The receptionist continued, her eyes on the monitor, "Follow-up appointments for previous treatments are from nine until five, these are emergency hours and---."

I chuckled, "Oh, no, no… this is our first visit. Nice place… dumpy neighborhood… hobos and what have you…"

She finally glanced up, her green eyes widening at the sight of us amicably smiling down at her.

As her lower lip began to tremor, a short haired woman in a doctor's coat opened a door leading to the back of the clinic, calling out, "Amelia?"

The older woman from earlier began rising to her feet but she was far too old and slow to make it to the door before us. The doctor glanced up in surprise but did not openly show the fear as her co-worker her.

"Sorry to cut in line, usually I don't adhere to such childish behaviors but my lady friend here requires immediate medical attention."

Looking to the woman in reception, the doctor nodded, "So I see… Myra, please help Mrs. Robinson to room three, I'll help this young lady first."

"Do you want me to call the---," the receptionist began to ask, her face paler than Harley's.

"No. I don't. I want you to help Mrs. Robinson," she stated, her tone nearly as calm as her face.

"Are you sure."

The doctor nodded before looking back to us, "Of course I am. Come this way, Ms…"

"Oh, I'm Harl---."

I squeezed my hand through her coat, grasping Harley's wound and causing her to scream in pain, "Her name is Harlinita, and you are Doctor…" my eyes found the tag on lapel, "Bryce."

It should have clicked right off the bat but I didn't make the connection until after the good doctor had cleaned Harley's wound, removed the dead tissue and wrapped her back up. It was as she was giving Harley antibiotic and tetanus injections that my mind went back to when my sweet girl had been catching me up on all the changes in Gotham City. Along with a new police commissioner, we had been treated to a new District Attorney, one Timothy Bryce.

Snappy looking fellow, as I recalled from the newspaper clippings, with an equally snazzy looking wife.

Not wanting to pry, I had sat on a small stool, spinning around slowly as Harley had complained through her entire treatment. As Dr. Bryce went over the antibiotic regimen Harley had to strictly follow, I pretended to show interest even though I was working on an impromptu plan on how to include her in my plans.

Then again, she did help put Harley Quinn back together again.

"Now… due to our somewhat famous status, would it be possible to leave through the back?" I asked as she helped Harley down from the exam table.

"Of course, I'll show you the way," Dr. Bryce replied.

"And… I don't mean to be a bother but I would appreciate it if this visit was kept on the down low, as it were. Hate to involve any pesky police in such a trivial matter.

"I'm required by law to report all gunshot wounds." As my gaze narrowed she proceeded, "But it would be impossible to do so without finding a bullet. This infection could have easily been a stab wound for all I know."

"Yes, a stab wound… Harlinita rolls with a pretty rough crowd. Don't you kiddo?"

Harley, painkiller kicking in, smiled weakly, "Sure do."

A brief wait for Harley's prescriptions, I decided to offer the doctor something for her kind service, aside from her life and well being. Upon her return, I took the white pharmacy bag and we proceeded to follow her down the corridor and towards an emergency exit. Before she opened the door for us, I retrieved a wad of cash from my pants pocket.

"A bit of chocolate on a few of them, I'm afraid I sat on my KitKat bar this morning."

She looked slightly put-off but then nodded, "Thank you… if you are still in the… area, I'd like to take a look at that a week from now."

Before any of us could utter another word, the back door flung outwards and a black boot slammed into my jaw.

Stunned, I fell to the ground, instinctually reaching into my Member's Only jacket for the array of weapons needed to keep safe on the streets of Gotham. I threw a pair of daggers at the black blur just as it punched Harley in the stomach. Although I heard them land with a sickening sound, there was no cry of pain.

Ah. The Bat-Babe.

As Dr. Bryce tried to step in, I decided that rather than call the police, she had summoned the masked brigade and her gift of life had been duly revoked… as had the chocolate cash. I managed to duck few blows to the head, taking a vicious right cross to the chin before my fingers found a white doctor's coat.

With an arm quickly wrapping around a tense neck, the other put my trusty gunmetal gray friend to a sweaty temple.

Finally, the blur froze.

I had only seen her a few times before Bats had decided I was better of sleeping away my multiple life sentences. She was so little, even under all the armor and black garb. What was even more odd was the fact that her entire face was covered, something I had never approved of. I always enjoyed seeing their faces, seeing their fear and anger but with her it was a blank, black slate.

"Seems we're in a bit of a pickle," I grinned, my recently healed lip cracked open once more.

She remained motionless, I wasn't even sure if she was breathing. I spotted a flash of silver amidst the black and spotted one of the knives embedded into her forearm. No doubt she had caught it there with one of her fancy karate moves.

Really, all that martial arts training… how would it ever trump a hostage and a loaded gun?

"Now, my dear, it's always a dream running into you masked folk but I'm afraid I must get my dear Harley home to bed…"

Harley, still splayed on the floor raised a limp hand up, "I'm a-okay, Mistah J…"

"As is our dear Bat-friend… and so will the good doctor as long as everyone cooperates. Now---."

She finally spoke, "Let her go. Now."

"See, I can't do that, you'll just go back to bashing my face in… and to be honest, it's really getting old… So you are going to back into that there utility closet and I'm going to lock you in… capice?"

"Let her go. Now."

Jeeze, she was more like Batsy than the boys…

"Fine, you know what… you can have her," I flicked the safety off, causing the masked woman in front of me to inhale sharply.

Although I wanted to shoot the doctor, I felt it was a wiser use of bullets to shoot the darling little crusader who had just cracked my face open. I fired eight rounds, each missing her as she darted and ducked, closing in the ten feet that had been between us. I clipped her shoulder and she didn't so much as flinch. I hit her thigh and she kept coming.

"Hold still!" I shouted as I fired once more.

Finally, jeesh.

^V^


	14. Now and Then: XIV

Title: Now And Then: XIV

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language, adult situations and violence.

Summary: Tim faces a crossroads in his life and the Family must accept his decision.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: As bad as things are starting to look for the Family, please keep in mind that there will be a happy ending, I promise. Also, my sincere apologies for the delay, I have been working disgusting amounts of overtime… too bad I don't get paid by the hour!

^V^

After a week of clown free nights, I had a bad feeling about going out on patrols.

Apparently, it had been justified.

Exactly one week after Jim and Maureen had been attacked, they had departed for the safety of Chicago, no doubt with intentions to never step on Gotham soil ever again. With them, Sarah had departed and I had expected another member of the Gordon family to go with them: Ethan.

When Dick had still been in the hospital, I had overheard him and Barbara talking about sending their one-year-old son along with his uncle and soon to be aunt when they left the City. Barbara had been adamant that it would be the best place for him while Dick had refused to let the child out of his sight. Their worried words had quickly turned heated after Barbara had suggested that Dick should go as well.

"Babs, I can't leave Gotham, not now. Not ever."

"All I'm saying is that maybe, for now, it's the best way to protect Ethan… and yourself."

"And who is going to protect you?" Dick had asked, his tone softening.

Barbara had replied, "I'm big girl… with a big gun."

I had known of her lenience when it came to firearms, one she shared only with Alfred, but the thought had still put me at unease. Before leaving them to their privacy, I had heard Dick's reply, "We have to stay together to stay strong… Divide us and we'll fall."

"Where did you steal that from, some patriotic brochure?"

"Nah," Dick's voice had taken a hint of humor on, "Meerkat Manor."

As Jim, Maureen and Sarah had departed for the Midwest, Dick had been released and sent home on strict orders of bed rest and a laundry list of painkillers, anti-inflammatories and antibiotics. Given that the consequences of failing to follow doctor's orders including destroying the recently reattached blood vessels, connective tissues and nerves, I knew he would be taking it easy.

Leaving just Tim and myself to hunt down the clown.

The dollar bills Tim had found at the house in Neville fit with a plan to eradicate us all, one by one. What hadn't made sense was the fact that aside from Helena, he hadn't killed any members of the Family. Dick had said that the Joker had one bullet left in the end of their confrontation but rather than shoot him in the head, the Joker had aimed high on his torso. Tim had said that Bruce suggested he was simply disarming those in the path of what he wanted most.

His Batman.

"He has to get through me first," Tim had growled lowly a few nights earlier.

That's what I had been afraid of.

Will was still being hospitalized although he had been moved out of the ICU and was in general recovery. In between whatever time we had been able to spare to visit him, Barbara had been diligently keeping us posted on his condition. After much debate, the doctors had decided to perform an additional surgery to remove his spleen. Although they had initially repaired the damage in trauma surgery following the night of the shooting, the damaged organ and splenic vessels had ruptured, resulting in pooling blood in his abdomen. Following the procedure, he was expected to remain hospitalized at least until the first of May.

His teenaged daughters had been staying with their mother at Will's townhouse for the time being and even though we had all made efforts to help out, each of us had regrettably matters far worse looming over us. Mattie had taken the initiative to socialize with the girls when she had seen them at the hospital and had even convinced their mother to let them go to the indoor roller rink with her and Selina one afternoon.

Something to take all of their minds off of life, even if it was only for a few hours.

While the week had come to an end with big changes in the Family, there had been no further interactions with the Joker or Harley. Bobo had yet to budge to either police interrogations or Batman's. Tim had begun to think that the he knew what the Joker's plan was but perhaps he hadn't known where the Joker and Harley had fled to after losing the hideout. But he wasn't about to stop asking.

With the abundant evidence collected from the house in Neville, Bruce and Tim had devoted themselves to trying to assign importance even to the most miniscule items. Pictures of graffiti on the interior of the house, the chaos of Bobo's basement as well as the death of their hostage. The coroner's report had come through three days after they had discovered the body, reporting that primary cause of death had been a blow to the back of the head. Additionally, it was apparent he had been starved, beaten and neglected of basic amenities given the poor condition of his remains. In the house, Tim had found no sign of the late doctor's residence but was quick to decipher the true meaning behind a messy closet.

He had been treated like an animal... by a monster.

Given I had been on my own for most of the week, I wasn't surprised when Oracle had contacted me, saying that my other half was checking out leads in the south of the city and wanted me to cover regular patrols.

Acknowledging her, I had added, "How's Dick?"

She had paused before responding, "Okay… it's hard for him to stay asleep, even with the Vicodin. He and bed rest never mix well… But a mending wing is better than no wing."

I had promised to check in with her later on my way through Tri-Corner.

"Thank you, Cass," had been her only reply.

Once again, the night had been busy but thankfully it had been an abundant quantity of crime and not a high quality. Carjackers, muggers, gangs trying to cause a ruckus… nothing major alone but combined they had made for an active night. While touring the East End, I had thought about taking a break when a call came over the com. link.

The hushed female voice on the other line was not Barbara's.

"Uh… hello?" she had asked.

I had hesitated before inquiring, "Who is this?"

"Dr. Dana Bryce… I… he gave me this phone... to call if there was ever an emer---."

Cutting her off, I said, "I'm on my way."

I had been six blocks away from the Free Clinic and given that my cycle was nearly a mile in the opposite direction, I had taken to running. Even though it was the criminal laden eastern hub of Gotham, I had made good time, opting to take the streets rather than waste a single second on hopping rooftops. The sight of a black garbed, masked and caped individual racing by had only drawn the gaze of only a handful of late night wanderers.

Every heart beat, every step, every breath, I had replayed a promise I had made to Leslie before she had left.

To protect the Clinic, to protect her people, her children.

Reaching the back door, I had seen a flash of movement through the small window. Green and white movement. Without hesitation, I had pulled the door back and leapt into the air, driving my boot heel in to pasty face. As I had landed, I had turned in order to punch Harley Quinn in her abdomen, duly noting that the Joker was throwing knives at me.

Spinning back around, I had been confused to see Dr. Bryce approaching to intervene as opposed to running for her life. The Joker had unsteadily risen to his feet, taking another hit to the face but remained standing through sheer will power and madness. His bloodied face had been in a glorious grin as he wrapped an arm around Dr. Bryce's throat while holding a gun to her temple.

Bruce had taught me to ignore his words, to forget what he had done in the past in order to focus on the present. I had ordered him to release her, acting as if I hadn't heard his ramblings, knowing he was more than capable of pulling the trigger in between giggles.

When I had started my training with my biological father, I had been taught not to physically acknowledge pain. To desensitize me, he had made me undergo any type of injury an assassin would face throughout a reputable career. Burns, broken bones, stabs and gunshots and many more. Although I had done my best to mentally disregard most of the vile training methods, the skill of blocking out pain had been an asset to my life as a crime fighter.

Eight rounds had whizzed by as I charged him. Another two had hit me, barely dancing across my shoulder and thigh.

"Hold still!" he had yelled out. I was four feet away, I had---.

By the time I had realized I was laying on the floor, the Joker and Harley had disappeared and Dr. Bryce was leaning over me, telling me everything was okay and that I safe.

She was okay. The Clinic was safe.

Knowing those two things, I closed my eyes.

When I opened my eyes, Tim was staring down at me.

No, not Tim, Batman.

"Can you hear me?" he asked. When I nodded slowly, he sighed with relief.

"Joker…" I said, my voice sounding distant and odd.

"I know," he interrupted me, "Dr. Bryce told me everything…

I tried to sit up from the gurney but he was quick to set his gloved hands on my shoulders. If anything, my head hurt and my shoulder and left leg were a little sore but there was no need to spend all night at the Clinic.

"Lie back down, Cass," he said softly, his worried voice and eyes belying his guise.

"I'm okay… sore."

The door opened after a curt knock and I looked to see it was Dr. Bryce, relief washing over her tired face. She looked to Batman and then back to me, "Am I interrupting?"

"No," he replied, the softness in his voice had turned to gravel. After stepping back from the gurney, he watched as Dr. Bryce approached and began a cursory examination, starting with dilating my pupils.

It was then that I realized I wasn't wearing a mask.

Rather than panic, I remained motionless on the gurney as she checked my vitals and the bandages. When she asked about my pain, I told her it wasn't bad.

"You have three GSW's," Dr. Bryce said in disbelief.

"Three?"

"The last bullet grazed your temple. You have a moderate grade concussion but thankfully there appears to be no inner ear or ocular damage. The other wounds were minor surface wounds, both stitched up nicely."

That would explain the headache.

"Out for how long?" I asked.

"At least a week," Dr Bryce had started, no doubt well aware of how well we followed doctor's orders.

Shaking my head, I clarified, "No, how long was I out?"

"About an hour. You were in an out while I sutured you but I'm sure the anesthetics didn't help."

That and I hadn't slept in four days,

Dr. Bryce stated she was going to retrieve fresh bandages although I knew she wanted to give us some time alone. Once the door closed behind her, I asked, "My mask?"

"Ripped… I brought you clothes to change into," he answered.

"Clothes? Just need a mask."

"Cassandra, don't do this. Not now," he growled at me as he turned away.

I finally sat up, starting to detach the monitoring equipment, "Can't sit here, not with you alone out there…"

"Cassandra---," he began.

Rising from the bed, I looked down in order to withdraw the IV catheter in the back of my hand, "No… you can't do this alone." When I looked up, he was facing me but the cowl had been pulled back, hanging over his shoulders.

"I'm not telling you to back down… as Batman."

He reached out to touch my cheek, being careful not to disturb the bandage on the right side of my head.

"I'm not telling you that I won't as Cassandra," I rebutted as I looked up at him.

The only sound of the room was the cardiogram as it flat lined, the reader pads taking the heart rate of the pillow on the gurney.

He reached behind me and reattached the pad to my sternum, "You're right, I can't do this alone. But I can't do this if you're not safe."

"He came here, he---."

Tim cut me off, "Police are going to be stationed here from now on… After patrols, I'll come get you."

"No, go home now."

I didn't want to be coddled.

I didn't want to left behind.

I didn't have a choice.

^V^

The day before, I had dropped Jim, Maureen and Sarah off at the airport with a heavy heart.

When he and Maureen had first come to Gotham, it had been for my wedding six years earlier. My father couldn't have been happier to see both his son and daughter at the same time, especially on such a joyous occasion. Regrettably, the Family had welcomed my brother and his future wife with both celebration and tragedy. An anticipated night of wedding reception madness had been cut short by the premature birth of Jonathan Thomas Wayne. Rather than recoil, Jim and Maureen had been quick to offer support and assistance of any kind.

Their subsequent visits had brought them closer and I had once dreamt of all the future years of a unified Gordon family. Given their engagement and the birth of their beautiful daughter, Sarah, I had told myself that we would finally be graced with peace and happiness. Once more, tragedy struck, that time in the form of my father's lung cancer. Jim and Maureen stepped up to the plate again, leaving behind their lives in Chicago to offer their love and comfort during such trying times.

Given how close they had become to the Family, Dick and I had realized that they faced the same dangers as the rest of us. Compounded with the Joker's escape and subsequent acquirement of our identities, we had decided that the best way to protect them was to tell them the truth. The truth and a full-fledged security system with direct connection to the world's greatest vigilantes. That hadn't been enough, as Jim had taken a stab wound to the abdomen, his fiancée had been bludgeoned over the head and their daughter had nearly been kidnapped by a mad man.

They should have never come to Gotham.

I nearly said as much when I had taken them to Terminal 4 at Gotham International Airport. Jim had leaned over gingerly to hug me, whispering into my ear, "Thank you, sis, for everything. This has been the best years of my life… being with my family."

Watching him, Maureen and Sarah pass through the glass doors and disappear into the throng of travelers, I had wanted nothing more but to go after him and beg for forgiveness.

Instead, I had texted him: **Your plane is on time, movie is Crazy Heart, love you Jim.**

He had promptly replied: **you always got my back ; )**

After battling traffic, I had made it back to the hospital by ten in the morning. Dick had a discharge appointment at ten-thirty, after which we had planned on visiting Will before heading to the Clocktower. Selina had graciously agreed to watch Ethan for the morning, and I had a sneaking suspicion that she and her children were cleaning the apartment and making a welcome home brunch.

I hadn't slept more than a handful of hours the entire week and had barely been able to summon the energy to get out of my car at the hospital parking garage let alone catch up on my domestic responsibilities.

I had just wanted my husband home.

Upon arriving at Dick's room, I had pushed open the door to discover a rather surprising guest. Given that he had been working around the clock with Tim on the new evidence, seeing Bruce seated beside the bed had been quite a shock. Throughout the week, he had been by three times, one of which had been while Dick was asleep. Although he wasn't one to admit it, seeing his protégés injured, especially by his greatest enemy, had always been difficult to bear.

I had often wondered what he thought every time he looked at me.

Dick had been in good spirits earlier that morning and his mood had only improved. Never one to turn away a meal, he had cleaned his breakfast tray in addition to the snacks I had bought him the night before. Bruce had a cardboard cup of coffee in his left hand and I had noted he had once more removed the splint from his right hand.

No doubt he would have put it back on before running into Alfred later that day…

He had stayed for another few minutes before excusing himself. When I had asked him what his plans were for the day, he had replied, "I have a few meetings… then I'm taking some things from Bryanttown."

Some evidence things.

Not five minutes after he had left, the attending physician on duty had knocked on the door, ready to check Dick's shoulder over one more time, as well as to discuss home care directions. After a week, he had been taken off of the IV antibiotics and was being put on oral meds and a strict bandaging routine. The drains had still been left in place and even though it had been unnecessary, we were shown how to properly flush them.

Once we had been alone again, Dick had laughed, "Please, like I haven't been shot before."

Our visit with Will had been brief but it had been nice to see him in such good spirits. He had gone from a well-rounded man looking for a job nice enough to get an apartment for his girls to come visit and he had ended up as a part of the Family, complete with a red badge of courage. His girls had been down for the entire week but were regrettably heading home, just like Jim and Maureen.

His girlfriend, Ronna, had stepped out to get pick up his mail and had been due back in an hour.

"How is she doing, with all of this?" I had asked.

Will, propped up in the bed, had cleared his throat, "Well, I mean… we haven't been all that serious but now… she wants to move in together." He had laughed before adding, "Guess getting shot is the thing these days. Makes you look cool… although I don't think there is anything cool about catheters and colostomy bags…"

"Some girls are kinky like that," Dick had joked, "You should ask Barbara about when we used handcuffs." My brow had arched upwards, forcing Dick to add, "Just kidding."

After a quiet cough, Will had said, "Thanks Dick… for helping get the girls down here… it meant a lot to me."

Dick had nodded, "Hey, you're Family now, pal, comes with all the perks… not just ICU stays but also first class, private airfare."

Will had smirked before looking away. The night after Dick and Will had been shot by the Joker, Tim had confessed that he had sat down and told him the truth. It seemed that the curse of knowing the secret identities of Gotham's protectors worked fast as not fifteen minutes after Tim had left the Firm, the Joker had made himself at home. It had been difficult enough to learn of Dick's injuries but knowing that an innocent man had nearly died for our cause left a cold feeling my gut.

The drive to the Clocktower had been in the midst of the mid-afternoon rush. After a few quiet minutes of bumper-to-bumper traffic, I had looked over to dick to comment on his silence. I had smiled to see he was fast asleep, sunglasses hanging precariously on the tip of his nose as his head lolled. Reaching over, I had gently removed the, not surprised when he hadn't so much as flinched.

Arriving in the ground floor parking garage at the base of the massive building, I had cut the ignition before retrieving my purse along with Dick's pharmacy bag which had been nearly beyond capacity. Just to get him through the two weeks before his next doctor's appointment.

He woke as I had opened the car door, fighting a yawn while unbuckling himself with his right hand. Given how active Dick was, learning to live with one functioning arm was going to be a definitive challenge. He had already learned his limitations during his stay at the hospital but I had felt that once home, he would try to push through such barriers. Perhaps, instead of watching Ethan, Alfred could help out by watching Dick instead…

He had insisted on helping me get out of the driver's seat, but by the time he had maneuvered out of the Range Rover, I had already set up my wheelchair and slipped down from the car. I had told him he could get the elevator door and he had nodded, "You may take my arm, but you can't take my… button pushing finger."

As expected, the apartment had been spotless and filled with warm scents of baked goods. Moving into the kitchen, I had smiled to see Ethan sitting on Mattie's lap at the small table. Under her careful, culinary guidance, he was decorating sugar cookies with blue icing while Nathan sat on the other side, gently dropping colored sprinkles onto a pan of cooling brownies.

Dick had greeted them first, "Looks like lunch is ready."

Mattie had to help Ethan to the ground but once the toddler's feet hit tile, he had raced to his father, wrapping frosting covered arms around his legs. Dick had crouched before him, carefully tilting torso back to the left in order to take the force of Hurricane Ethan on his good shoulder. I had moved up beside Mattie and had complimented, "Girl, you are on a roll."

She had grinned at me, finally taking her eyes of off her big brother, "Oh, wait until you see what's in the fridge."

Rising back to his feet, Dick had left a protesting little boy on the floor, "I smelt the crab from down the street."

Mattie had wiped her hands of the blue frosting before getting to her feet. After she had gently wrapped her arms around Dick, she had looked up at him, "Think of it as a late birthday gift."

"Better late than never," he had replied before leaning over and kissing the top of her head.

While Dick had joined them at the table, I had left in search of Selina although there had been no need to venture far. She was in the den and for the second time that day, I had been surprised at Bruce's presence. Where he had been drinking coffee and chatting with Dick at the hospital, he had been simply sitting beside his wife on the couch. Upon closer inspection, I had found them both dozing and decided to leave them in peace.

What little peace they found of late.

Or any of us for that matter.

Not an hour later, the Wayne family had departed and Ethan had been put down for his nap. Dick had decided to follow suit and had retreated to the master bedroom, leaving me alone for the remainder of the afternoon. Naturally, I had found solace in my own cyber fortress of solitude, looking through the evidence that Bruce and Tim had been cataloguing and categorizing. Aside from the money bearing superhero stick figures, nothing had screamed the Joker's maniacal style. Somehow, afternoon had turned to evening and when Dick had entered the secluded room with Ethan toddling in front of him, I was shocked to see it was nearly six-forty five.

"I already fed him but couldn't quite do a diaper change one handed."

I had glanced over my shoulder, staring at him over the rim of my glasses, "Well, you best learn or it's going to be a very long year."

"Six months, let's show a little optimism…" he had rolled his eyes before moving closer, keeping a hand on Ethan's shoulder.

Taking a break, I had resumed my maternal duties, which had bridge beyond a diaper change to a much needed bath as well as some playtime while Dick flushed his drainage tubes and took his meds. It was going to be a long six months, if not an even longer year.

Dick had taken Ethan afterwards, assuring me he would learn to fasten a diaper with his teeth on for the next change. After kissing Ethan good night, I had left them in the den and had returned to the work station, tired before the night had even started… not a good sign. Apparently, Tim and Cass, on the other end of the spectrum, had been raring to go. They had both been logged into the Oracom system for an hour, just after I had left to clean up Ethan. Busy little bats.

Although I had been quick to offer my assistance, Tim had curtly refused and told me to take it easy while Cass had admitted things were quiet so far and had asked how Dick was.

"All settled in… Mattie baked before we came home… I think he's eaten every sugar cookie. And peanut butter cookie."

"Brought down brownies," she had said, "Before going home."

I had brought up the list of active members on the Oracom and nodded to see Bruce was on under "invisible" mode from the Cave. Even though Tim had been Batman for years, I had still kept Bruce's log-in insignia of the bat symbol, knowing no other image would be able to represent him. Dick had commented once that I should change it and make it silver, "to match his hair."

The icons for Nightwing and Huntress were each a pale gray as opposed to the activated, vibrant blue and purple respectively.

The evening had gone as expected, with limited communication from anyone on the system. Dick had checked in shortly before one in the morning, obviously after he had taken his vicodin and lorazepam. He would have no doubt been asleep in less than thirty minutes.

In said thirty minutes, the Joker and Harley visited the Free Clinic, Dr. Dana Bryce had called Batgirl, Batgirl had promptly responded, faced off with the Joker, had been grazed by three of his bullets before he and Harley had escaped.

When Batgirl had received the call, the comm. link had automatically logged me in so that I could hear the brief exchange. I had forwarded the information to the only other patrolling vigilante who was regrettably on the other side of the city, a good thirty minutes away. While he frantically traversed Gotham's boroughs to get to Crime Alley, I had used a private and untraceable line to call the back room of the Free Clinic directly.

Dr. Bryce answered on the third try.

"How is she?" I had asked, my voice altered by the phone's receiver.

"How did… who is this?"

"I need you to tell me the extent of Batgirl's injuries."

There was a pause before, "She's stable. Two minor flesh wounds and the third bullet grazed her temple. Pupils are normal and reactive, no sign on cranial hemorrhaging… moderate concussion but I'm waiting on a---."

"He will be there in twenty minutes," I had informed Dr. Bryce before hanging up.

I relayed the information to Batman, barely hearing his response over the heated growl of a cycle. According to the scanners, the police had already been alerted, the special crimes task force calling in off duty cops to aide in setting up barricades and to help in door-to-door searches. I had been about to update him on the official efforts of Gotham's finest but he had already closed the connection.

Silencing the speakers that broadcasted the frenzied police scanner, I had leaned back in the chair and let out the air that had been trapped in my chest. My temporary relief had suddenly vanquished when I realized I had to inform Bruce that not only did the Joker make an appearance, that he injured yet another member of the Family.

One of his children had started on the road to recovery and only twelve hours later, another had fallen.

^V^

Given how chaotic the last few weeks had been, I had all intentions of sleeping in Sunday morning. The rest of my Sunday had a loose plan of making brunch with Alfred, working on katas and krav maga moves in the Cave followed by pleading with my mother to take me to the barn to ride Coltrane. And, of course, then bat my eyes at my father to take me to the Clocktower to see Dick. If we went in the afternoon, it would be perfect as Dick would have had just enough time to settle in after being brought home by Barbara.

Although I had seen him every day over my spring break, I had much preferred to see him alive and well at home rather than at the hospital.

After a late dinner, I had gone upstairs to wash up and read in solitude, opting out of watching a movie with the rest of my Family. I knew a third of the way through, my father would have excused himself to retreat to the Cave anyway and I also knew that Nathan would only want to watch one of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. Again.

Not surprising, only my mother had come to check on me a little after ten. She had sat on my bed for a bit, teasing her fingers over Taffy's fat belly while asking me what I wanted to do the next day. After laying out my tentative plan she had nodded, "Sounds good to me, kiddo."

"Even going to the Clocktower?"

She had nodded, smiling as Taffty gently pawed at her fingers, "Actually, we are going to watch Ethan while Barbara drops Jim and Maureen off the airport… maybe we can bake up something for Dick, to welcome him home."

I had agreed, "Somethings… He's a growing boy."

"He's something all right… Good night, Mattie… not too late, okay?"

"Okay."

I had attempted sleep at midnight, but found myself waking three times to the sound of wind outside. The fourth time I was startled, it had been at the sound of someone opening my bedroom door. Hearing near silent footsteps and a trademark, tired sigh, I felt Dad pull the blankets up over my shoulder before kissing my temple, whispering, "Good night, kitten."

After he had left, I opened my eyes to find my bedside clock displaying the time to be a little after two in the morning..

Just as sleep took me once more, I heard the sound of my parents quietly growling at one another in the hall as it drifted through my bedroom door. The last week had been short of chaos between staying at the Manor, the Penthouse, the Clocktower and visiting the hospital and the townhouse. There frustration over recent events had been difficult to contain, therefore we were rarely together in the same residence at the same time. Whenever my father went off on his own, I found myself on full alert while watching over my brother, even if we were in the company of my mother or even Cassandra. Nathan had thought it was fun to spend our spring break on the lam but I knew my father was keeping us moving as to keep us from getting cornered by the Joker.

Alfred had commented earlier in the week that a rolling stone gathered no moss.

I had replied, "Or rather a moving target is harder to hit."

We had been in the kitchen nook of the Manor at the time, peeling and dicing apples to make strudels and an apple pie. He had set his paring knife down before reaching over and setting a hand on mine, "Mattie… I assure you… your father will let no harm befall you."

I had known he was right. My father would no doubt let harm befall him long before his children. Rather than speaking my mind, I had simply nodded before resuming my work, offering him peace of mind.

Any normal teenage girl would have simply groggily rolled over and pretended it was a bad dream. I, on the other hand, instantly leapt to my feet before racing over to put my ear against the door. They had been fighting off and on over the last few months, culminating to the blowout the morning after Jim and Maureen had been attacked in their former residence. It had been a week since then and although they were no longer screaming at each other, they were still fighting.

Nathan was easily distracted, given his new found discovery of the truth.

I, on the other hand, was unable to ignore it.

"… Bruce, just wait a minute," my mother growled.

"Selina, I can't wait another minute," he retorted.

"And what exactly do you plan on doing when you get down there?"

"… I can't exactly help from here, now can I?"

"Bruce, Tim said she was stable and that he had already taken her home for the night…"

"And leaving her alone at the townhouse shouldn't have been an option, not in her condition."

"He said he was nearly done with patrols, he'll---."

"Tim will be out until after dawn given what's happened. If the Joker is still in the area---."

"Tim will hunt him down, or die trying, I get it."

"Selina… I'll be back in the morning."

My mother took a moment before replying, "You better be."

I decided to open my door, ignoring their shocked looks as I stepped into the hall, "I'll make sure he does, Mom."

"Mattie, no," he instantly replied.

"Actually, yes…" Mom intervened.

I watched as they glared at one another in the dark, silent corridor.

Finally, Dad grunted and turned to the stairs, "We're leaving in three minutes."

I took a second to smirk at my mother before dashing into my bedroom to grab a hooded sweatshirt, pocketing my cell phone, inhaler and chap stick while shoving my bare feet into a pair of still laced up Sambas. By the time I caught up with Dad, he was already at the base of the stairs. I had a hunch that something had happened to Cass, but decided to wait until we were pulling out of the garage in a black Mercedes coupe.

"What happened?"

Dad didn't reply until we reached the end of the driveway, "Cassandra's been shot."

"But Mom said she was stable… how bad was it?" I asked, doing my best to disguise my concern.

"Minor flesh wounds… one grazed her temple."

My mind instantly flashed back to the records I had read about Dad succumbing to a bullet in the frontal lobe. About the year he had spent relearning everything he had lost. I had even read some of his own logs, written following his recovery shortly after I had been born. Tim had said I was the reason he had remembered everything.

Dad must of realized what my silence indicated as he was quick to explain, "She has a minor concussion, a few stitches… She'll be fine , she just needs to rest." When I didn't respond, he removed his hand from the stick shift and touched mine.

Like Dick would be fine… in a year.

The Gordons would never be fine.

Nor would Helena.

As his cell phone chirped, Dad let go of my hand to retrieve it from his pants pocket. He nearly drifted into the center lane of the expressway, swore as he righted the car and then finally answered, "What?" I tried to hear the caller but it was difficult over the growl of five-hundred horses. He replied after a moment, "I know… I'll… Okay."

When I asked who it had been, he replied that it was Barbara.

When I asked what she had said, he downshifted to make our ext.

As we pulled into the driveway in front of the townhouse, I shifted to undo my belt before grabbing the door handle but my father interrupted me, "Mattie… He may know who Tim and Cassandra are."

"But I thought that Helena didn't---."

Dad cut me off, although his voice was quiet, "There's no way of knowing what she told him… or what she knew… but if he does know… he may come here, possibly to finish what he started. Do you understand… you have to stay on your guard… and we're only going to stay until Tim gets home."

I followed him up the stone steps to the front door and waited as he selected a house key, physically unlocking the door knob and deadbolt. Once we were inside, he was quick to punch in his identification number to the security panel after pressing his thumb on the scanning pad. Although there were motion sensors and cameras throughout the residence, the security system was no where near as elaborate as Wayne Manor and the Clocktower.

Then again, what better line of defense was there than being Batman.

As I turned the atrium lights on, I smiled to hear Robbie's toenails on the hard wood floor, along with low grumbling barks. After he turned the corner from the living room, the barks turned to pathetic whines as he trotted over to me, nub of tail wagging frantically. Rather than greet the Boxer, Dad chose to remove his coat before heading upstairs. With Robbie at my heels, I followed Dad to the second floor master bedroom.

"Cassandra?" Dad asked as he rapped on the closed door. When there was no reply, he knocked and spoke louder. He finally opened the door, hitting the light switch before stepping inside the vacant bedroom. I watched as he quickly checked the bathroom and walk-in closet, finding both to be empty. Fear was beginning to creep over his face as he began calling out her name once more, leaving the bedroom in order to search the rest of the second floor rooms. I chose to trek back downstairs, Robbie opting to join my efforts as opposed to my father's.

A sound in the kitchen drew my attention and I carefully stepped down the hall in silence, just as I had a week earlier. Although rather than to eavesdrop on Cass and Tim talking about the Joker, I was preparing myself to face off with the clown himself. Robbie darted at the sound of the refrigerator door opening and although I made a grab for his collar, he managed to barge past me. Hoping the dog would act only as a decoy and not a martyr, I dashed into the kitchen's second entrance at the end of the hall, armed with a glass vase from the corridor's credenza.

On instinct, I nearly threw the heavy piece at the kitchen's sole human occupant, until I heard, "You break it, you buy it."

In disbelief, I set the vase down on the counter before letting the air form my chest, "Cassandra?"

"Who else would be eating this late?" she had offered a smirk before closing the refrigerator having sought out a bottle of white grape juice.

"No one… I… Dad and I… we thought you were in bed… and then you weren't…"

"I was a little stiff… needed to get blood pumping a bit… also missed dinner last night."

I laughed softly just as Dad barged into the kitchen, "Mattie, I can't… Cassandra? Why aren't you upstairs?"

"Just needed to stretch my legs… get something to eat."

"So I see… well, you've accomplished both, now---."

She sighed, "I'm fine… just scratches. Night off, be good as new."

Dad started with, "Taking a bullet to the head is anything but fine, Cassandra, I…" but stopped when he caught me staring at him. He quieted his tone before continuing, "Mattie, you should get some rest…"

I found myself speaking up to and at my father, "I can't be on my guard if I'm sleeping on the couch."

Cass caught the look that washed over his face and was quick to suggest, "Come upstairs with me… we can watch a movie in bed."

Dad had been right.

Although Cass and I had settled into the master bed with a late night repeat of ROME on HBO, I fell asleep twenty minutes in. When my eyes opened, the room was bright with sunlight and I was the only one in bed, aside from Robbie. The clock said it was just after eight, and I sighed thinking my plans for the day would need to be altered, if not they were salvageable at all. Leaving the Boxer to his beauty rest, I shuffled out of the bedroom and into the quiet hall. A soft exhalation drew me to the meditation room where I found Cass dressed in Lycra and gauze.

Studying her for a moment, I recognized the fluid and forceful movements to be that of Krav Maga.

"Don't just stand there," she commented without looking at me.

There wasn't a lot of space in the meditation room, but there were lots of rubber pads and no furniture to be broken aside form a single bookshelf. When I stepped into the room, she threw a vicious kick at my face and I barely blocked it.

Perhaps my plans for the day weren't completely lost.

Although there were a dozen other martial arts that the Family utilized, this was one that Tim, Dick and Cass relied heavily on. Preemptive and counterstrikes were faster with more painful with a stronger focus on vulnerable areas on an opponent, such as the eyes, throat and groin. The unbroken stream of movements allowed for fast and efficient response to a threat, utilizing overwhelming injuries to keep the attacker down. More importantly, the environmental awareness was pertinent to performing accurately, to keep an eye out not only for threats, but for possible weapons to use against said threats.

Cass had taught me more traditional arts such as Surma Stickfighting, Nuba Fighting and Tang Soo Do before she had introduced to me Krav Maga and I certainly knew why. It relied heavily on utilizing countless maneuvers that required perfection before being used at such fast pace. As I had learned each form of martial art, I had gone back into the crays to look up the respected training video of my father's.

A few weeks back, Cass had caught me watching his Krav Maga video, with my jaw dropped in awe. He had been twenty-nine years old in the video, his blows violently moving at light speed. When engaging with a practice dummy, he had snapped its head around and cracked all four limbs in less than five seconds.

"At his peak," she had commented.

Not ten years in to his war on crime, with only ten years left. I had instantly thought that Tim was going to turn twenty-nine in July and I couldn't help but wonder how many years he had left.

^V^

As I was looking for my car keys for an early morning trek to the Bristol Country Club, I heard the growl of a car coming up the driveway. I glanced out the kitchen nook window to see a dark sedan come to an abrupt stop before the front entrance. It wasn't until the motion sensor lights kicked on and put my son in the spotlight that I let the air escape my chest.

I met him in the atrium, "Tim? What's wrong?"

"Where's Dana?" he asked roughly, his eyes electric with emotion.

"Upstairs sleeping, why? What's going on?"

"You're sure?" he asked as he looked to the staircase.

"I just came down… Going to put in nine holes… my anniversary gift to myself…. Hers is getting to sleep in."

"Anniversary?" Tim seemed to ask himself, "Today… I'm sorry, Dad… I just…"

His breaths were shallow and fast, as if he had ran from Gotham to Bristol rather than driving like a bat out of hell. I reached out to set a hand on his shoulder, "Tim, just take it easy… What happened?"

After taking a deep breath, Tim finally relaxed enough to resemble a fraction of his usual demeanor, "The Joker shot Cassandra."

Knowing the fate of many people who had been shot by the Joker, I felt my stomach turn while asking, "Is she all right?"

Thankfully, he nodded, "She will be… a few bullets clipped her… she's inhuman as to how she can dodge point blank shots, almost as good as Superman…"

"Where is she?" I asked, leading him towards the seclusion of the kitchen.

"I took her home… Bruce went down to keep an eye on her while I looked for the Joker."

"Any sign of him?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

Tim shook his head, "He was last seen in the East End… I scoured the streets, possible hideouts… nothing… But his enforcer in custody, another suffering from a gunshot wound herself and without his hideout and transportation resources, he has to be getting frustrated… ready to falter…" he looked up at me for reassurance.

"Of course."

He looked down at his feet before locking eyes with me, "Dad… I want you to leave Gotham."

"We've been through this, Tim," I sighed.

"I know…. But, Jim and Maureen left… and will is going to be heading to a rehab facility south of the city when he's release next week… I… I want you and Dana to be safe. I want to be able to face him without worrying if he can use you to get to me."

His eyes were terrifyingly blue. I had seen the same look in his eyes two decades earlier when he had realized his mother was dead.

I couldn't abandon my son.. Nor could stand in his way of hunting down a madman.

"All I can say is that we're going to the lake house in Connecticut for the week. Dana wanted to redecorate… paint some rooms… maybe stain the decks a different color…"

A smile finally broke out on Tim's face. Relief.

"It's for our anniversary though, it has nothing to do with what you want… understood?"

"Yes, sir," he nodded before wrapping his arms around me.

As I patted his back, I said, "Well… if we're going to be away… might as well join us dinner tonight… We have reservations at six-thirty at Smith & Wollensky's… Just rated the best time in Gotham…" I let him go before finishing, "Ought to be for thirty-five dollar crab cakes."

The smile faded from his lips, "Dad, I don't think we can… I mean… Cassandra needs to rest… and I… I'm alone now… out there…"

"You could use some rest yourself… Tell you what, we'll bring you two something to eat… they have that wasabi and lime Red Snapper you like."

Tim nodded, knowing I wasn't going to take no for an answer, "Fine… and get Cass something light."

I joked, "What, like only one porterhouse for two?"

He laughed weakly, "Yeah, that will do."

I walked him back outside to his car, being sure to emphasize that if he needed anything that I was only a phone call away. He thanked me before reminding me to reactivate the full security program before I left Dana for the morning. I had rolled my eyes at him and he wagged a paternal finger at me, "I mean it."

"Yes, sir," I mocked before waving a hand at him.

Returning to the house, I kicked off my shoes as I activated the security system. Trying to put the thought of Cassandra being injured out of my head, I jogged back upstairs and quietly stepped into the bedroom. Dana had spread herself out to encompass my side of the bed as well, her face soft with slumber. Still in my polo and khakis, I carefully reclined beside her, pausing as she shifted in her sleep.

I watched her breathe for the better part of an hour, my thoughts running chaotically. What kept surfacing in my mind was what Tim had said, how he was alone. The Huntress was dead, Dick had suffered a horrific gun shot wound and then Cassandra, luck and skill sparing her life. Even with their combined forces, it hadn't been enough to bring down the Joker, how would Tim be able to do so by himself?

Granted, they would be there to support him, but who would watch his back while he was on the streets?

When Bruce had offered the cowl to Tim, I had blatantly confronted him about my concern that he was endangering my son's life rather than his own. It was then that Bruce had poured his heart out, telling me that there was no one on the face of the Earth more deserving of stepping into his mantle than Timothy Jackson Drake. That my son bore the attributes necessary to be Batman, along with the potential to do justice to the guise, if not improve upon it.

Tim had worn that cowl for nearly six years, and he had saved hundreds if not thousands of lives.

It had only nearly cost his life once, at the hands of a knife wielding serial killer.

I couldn't help but wonder what the Joker would do to him… or vice versa.

"Babe?" Dana's voice forced my dark thoughts away.

I leaned in and kissed her cheek, "Happy Anniversary, Dana."

"Aw, Jackie… I thought you were going golfing?"

"I was… decided I wanted to share your gift… if you didn't mind."

We dozed on and off until ten in the morning. Once we were motivated enough to rise, we decided to have brunch in town before hitting the organic market and bakery to quest for one of our favorite treats: carrot cake cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. After touring the various stands, we returned home to kill a few hours before heading into the city.

"Did you call Tim and Cassandra to see if they wanted to join us tonight?" Dana asked as we pulled into the garage.

I wasn't sure how to explain Cassandra's injuries without causing Dana to immediately want to head down to see her, so I lied, "I did and they're tuckered out after the last week. Figured they'd stay in for the night."

Dana nodded as I parked the car, "Ah… well, good for them to get some rest… lord knows they need it."

I nodded and replied before getting out, "I told them we would drop them off something for dinner."

"Such a good guy," Dana commented as she followed me into the house.

"Speaking of which… I think I want to go up to with you to Lake Chaffee this week… be nice to get some fresh air… accomplish something useful."

"Really?" she asked, a smile already spreading over her lips.

"Yeah… have to earn my anniversary with you, Dana," I commented as we entered the mud room.

"Oh, don't worry, it's been bought and paid for," she laughed before wrapping her arms around me, planting her lips on mine. When she pulled back, she added, "If you really want to make yourself useful… you can go turn on the hot tub. Mr. Drake."

"Consider it done, Mrs. Drake."

We were ten minutes early to our reservation but Dana put the charm on the host and rather than wait in the lounge we were seated immediately. She kept her hand in mine as we walked amongst tables filled with Gotham's elite, her manicured nails gently scratching the back of my hand. I had made sure to secure a window seat as it overlooked part of Robinson Park and the bright lights of the theatre district. I had asked her earlier in the month if she wanted to see a play or something and she had smirked that we would be more than capable of entertaining each other.

Her youthfulness scared me at times, but it certainly kept me alive.

Rather than taste the fine wines offered at the restaurant, we had gone with champagne flutes of a house concoction of vodka, grapefruit juice and Prosecco. To match our hearty drinks, we sampled the ridiculously overpriced crab cakes along with the pan-seared lamb chops, sautéed spinach and wild mushrooms. After we had each consumed three glasses of the Italian 88, I was a bit tipsy but Dana was giggling quietly to herself. When the waitress came to take out dessert order, Dana selected coconut layered cake while I asked for coffee. Left alone, I felt Dana's stocking toe trace up and down my left leg and I had to resist the urge to reach down and tickle it.

I realized that I had forgotten to order dinners for Tim and Cassandra when the room exploded in gunfire.

Without looking or even thinking, I grabbed Dana and pulled her under the table, pressing her head against my chest while covering her exposed ear. Automatic gunfire filled the air, along with shattering glass and blood-curdling screams. Dana shook in my arms and I did everything in my power not to give in to my own tremors of fear. I chanced a look from under the table, calculating the distance from us to the rear hallway to be less than fifteen feet. If we could make a run for it, we could make it out the fire exit or at the very least take cover in a closet or one of the restrooms.

I positioned my face in front of Dana's, "We have to run out the back. Ready?"

She nodded, although it was hard to differentiate from her shaking.

Looking out once more, I noticed the gunmen was focusing his attention and aim at the patrons who had been waiting in the lounge and bar area. I caught a flash of a purple sleeve and pale white skin and the wretched sound of uncontrollable laughter.

With the fraction of an opening, I grabbed onto Dana and ran, hunched over, to the rear hallway. Reaching the fire exit, I swore to find it had been locked and the bar wouldn't give to my urgent shoves. The linen closets would have offered cover for Dana but not for the both of us and I refused to leave her side. Ushering her across the wall, I locked us into the women's bathroom, leaving Dana to rest against the sink while I opened the window. Again, I doubted she even would have been able to fit through. I moved on, jamming the steel garbage can under the door knob. Somewhat successful, I exhaled before catching my reflection in the garbage canister. My white dress shirt under my suit coat was stained with blood but when I felt my torso and arms for wounds, I found none.

"Dana…" I gasped.

She had worn her favorite dress, some Gucci creation that had maxed out her personal shopping credit card with one swipe. It was a stunning garment, with a deep neckline that was paired with an even lower dipping back. The color of the straps over her shoulders started as a slate blue and then faded to nearly black at he base of the skirt. She had it altered by a friend of hers to have Swarvoski crystals embedded into the material, causing it to flicker light back as if it were water.

Every time she wore it, she took my breath away.

I reached her side just as she lost her grip on the marble counter, her hands slick with her own blood. After helping her lay down, I ripped open the paper towel dispenser and emptied it., pressing the white tissue to the wound above her right breast. She reached up to touch my face and I kissed her fingertips, "I'm going to get you out of here."

"Jackie," was all that she managed to say.

Over the sound of her rough breathing and my quiet sobs, I heard footsteps and muted voices in the corridor. Useless as it was, I carried her to the handicap stall and locked us in before putting pressure once more on the wound. Keeping one hand on her chest, I retrieved my cell phone from my pocket, dialing carefully given how slick my fingers were.

I was certain there wasn't going to be time to redial.

After four rings, the voicemail greeted me, "This is Tim Drake of DJG Security, please leave your name, message and number and I will get back to you as soon as possible."

Beep.

"Tim… Tim, it's me… Please pick up… Tim?"

I hung up and quickly dialed the townhouse. Another four rings and then another voicemail, although this time in Cassandra's sweet voice, "You've reached Tim and Cass, sorry we weren't here to take you call, but leave us a message."

"Tim? Cassandra?" I spoke into the phone as loudly as I dared to. "Please, if you can hear me… something's happened… He's… He's here and he… Tim, he's shooting everyone… And Dana… please… I'm so sorry… I should have listened to you…" I was interrupted by someone banging on the door, followed quickly by what sounded like body slamming, "Tim… It's not your fault… Please, believe me… You can't blame yourself…"

The garbage can clattered as the door flew open.

"Tim," I paused, picturing a tiny infant with dark hair, writhing in my arms. Of a hyperactive boy who loved digging holes in the back yard. Of a rebellious teenager who lied in order to protect me. Of a man with the entire city under his watchful protection.

"I love you, son."

Looking down at Dana, my lips began trembling, "I love you, Dana…"

She smiled weakly, opening her mouth but nothing came forth.

Then the click of hard-soled shoes on the tiled floor silence the both of us. I should have shut the phone off but I knew it would beep, thus drawing even further attention to ourselves. I covered my mouth, trying to silence my heavy breathing as the footsteps drew closer.

"Knock knock," he said as he rapped on the first bathroom stall door. After waiting the beat for the silent "Who's there?", he continued, "Ivor!"

I mentally thought, Ivor who?

The Joker answered after kicking in the stall door, "Ivor mind not to tell you!"

He continued his act for the remaining five stalls but when he reached the one we were hiding in, he simply peered over the stall door, "You know, for being the place for the Best Time in Gotham, these people were certainly dying to get out of here…"

His face was as ghastly in real life as it was on the FBI most wanted posters. The blood speckling his pale skin stood out just as brightly as it did against my shirt.

"Please," I whispered, "My wife… Do whatever you want to me but, please… not her…"

After looking over Dana's limp, bleeding form, he shrugged, "You got it… she's not my type anyway… I like woman with a little vim and vigor---," the Joker stopped when he spotted the cell phone in my hand, his grin twisting slightly, "Oh… you do realize you have to dial nine to get an outside line?"

In the blink of an eye, he jumped off the door, shoved it inward and grabbed the phone from me, "Sorry, but your party has been disconnected, hahahahahaha!"

Before I could say anything, he opened fire.

^V^

"Thirty minutes."

"Hmm?"

As I nestled my face in the crook of her neck, I said, "Wake me in thirty minutes."

I had originally intended on sleeping upon arriving home from Bristol in the pre-dawn hours but as I had pulled up, Bruce's Mercedes in the driveway had kyboshed said plan. With Cassandra and Mattie resting upstairs, I had spent from after six in the morning until nearly eight talking with him about the previous night, about my father and Dana finally agreeing to leave town and then our plan to move forward.

"He knows the score," Bruce had stated solemnly, bringing the images of the at-dollars to my mind, "He knows it's only you."

I had nodded, "Naturally he isn't counting the police."

"They've never been a threat to him, nothing has changed to prove otherwise."

Although his tone was cold, I knew it was in part because Cassandra had been injured, even if it had been minor. Too many of his protégés bore bullet scars from the Joker, excluding the dozen or so that marked his own body. I had called him personally after making sure Cassandra was all right. As expected, he had been wide awake and quick to demand every detail about what had transpired at the Free Clinic.

Details that I had been still trying to process whilst trying not to plot out the best way to torture the Joker within an inch of his life for what he had done to my fiancée.

"I'm going to cut patrols early, so I can watch over her."

"No, you need to try and track him before the trail gets too cold," he had ordered over the phone. Realizing his error, he had corrected himself, "Do what you can, I'll come down and stay with her."

Five hours later, as we had sat at my kitchen counter, he had done something remarkable… he had apologized for trying to tell me what to do.

"It's okay, Bruce… we're all tense…"

He had gone silent for nearly a minute before changing the subject, "Where is your father going?"

"Their lake house… up in Connecticut. Said they were going up for a week, but once they get up there, I'm going to make sure they stay until this is over."

Bruce had nodded before asking, "Where are they now?"

"He was going golfing, she was sleeping still… Reminded him to go overboard on the security," I had sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, "Some peace of mind, at least."

"You should get some rest," Bruce had stated while rising from the stool, "The both of you… I'll get Mattie."

As he had made for the door, I rose as well, "Bruce, wait…" After he had stopped to look back at me, I had continued. "It's not just me… I still have Barbara… I still have you."

"Of course," he had agreed before resuming his trek upstairs.

Once the Waynes had departed, I had dragged my feet upstairs, skipping out on breakfast in order to shower and check in on Cass. Instead of being in bed like she was supposed to, I had found her in the meditation room, sitting motionlessly on one of the floor mats. When I had knocked on the open door, she had remained still. After clearing my throat loudly, she had exhaled softly. After I began tapping my foot, Cass had finally given in, turning to look over her shoulder in order to deliver a foul glare.

"Good morning," I had offered.

"Good bye," she had countered,

"Dr. Bryce said bed rest."

"I am resting… just not in bed."

"And the patter of footfalls and yelps over the last hour or so?"

She had shrugged while turning back to face the bay windows, "I didn't hear anything."

"Suppose you wouldn't, being concussed and all."

Cass had gone silent after that.

By the time I had showered, shaved, rubbed my lower back with liniment and dabbed antiseptic on a few still healing wounds, Cass had returned to bed, sporting fresh bandages and an ice pack resting on the side of her head. I had smiled while stepping out of the bathroom.

"Happy now?" she had snipped.

After crawling into bed and wrapping my arms gently around her, I had answered, "Now I am."

We had chatted briefly, and I found myself rehashing what I had said to Bruce earlier. But rather than receive the curt replies as I had before, Cass offered a silent ear, offering her thoughts intermittently. She had been pleased to hear that my father had decided to stop being stubborn.

"He wanted us to go to dinner tonight."

"Where?"

I had honestly been unable to remember where my father had said, mostly because while I had been with him in Bristol, my mind had been back in Gotham. "I don't know, but I told him we would have to take a rain check… he said he was still going to drop by with dinner."

"I knew he was my favorite in-law."

"Future in-law."

She had raised an eyebrow at me, causing her bandage to wrinkle.

I had offered, "Sorry, I'm detail-oriented."

Shaking her head, Cass had set her head back down on the pillow.

After a few quiet minutes, I looked over to he nightstand to see it was approaching ten in the morning. I had wanted to do some undercover work in the East End, not to mention taking another look at the Clinic's treatment room.

"Thirty minutes."

"Hmm?" Cass had mumbled sleepily.

As I nestled my face in the crook of her neck, I said, "Wake me in thirty minutes."

"Yeah… but only if you wake me in twenty-nine."

Reaching for my cell phone on my nightstand, I set the alarm before setting it back down by my watch. Thirty minutes would be enough to recharge me for the afternoon, maybe I would be able to catch a real nap later in the day, before heading out for my first night of solo patrols. Ever.

I would need to run on all cylinders to get through the night.

Rather than wake to my cell's alarm, I found myself coming back to the land of the living only because Cass was shaking my shoulder and yelling my name. Opening my eyes, I was confused when I didn't immediately become alert, contradicting the thirty minutes I had spent asleep.

"What?" I asked, my voice sounding off.

"Barbara called… the Joker's made an attack near Robinson Park."

"Damnit," I jumped from the bed, "On who? The DA?"

Cass stood as well, "No, innocent people… out to dinner."

Before racing out of the room, I glanced at the bedside clock, "Cassandra, it's seven?! Why the hell didn't you wake me?"

A foul look came over her face before she snapped, "I tried to, all afternoon… thought I was the one with a concussion."

Her words suddenly reminded me that she was in fact the infirm one. I sighed and stayed a moment longer to say, "I'm sorry… Just… Get a cab to take you to the Clocktower, I don't want you here alone."

She nodded but remained silent.

Racing to the Sat-Cave would waste fifteen minutes but it was necessary, especially if I was able to pick up on the Joker's trail. The spare suit I kept at home was functional for emergency situations, but not for those that involved his touch of criminal class. Once I had entered through the vault-like entrance, I quickly began disrobing while vocally activating the link to the Clocktower.

Barbara's face and voice greeted me, although neither exhibited an ounce of her usual self. Upon asking her what the situation was, she detailed out the Joker's attack at the city's top-rated restaurant. A call had been made to the establishment thirty minutes prior to the shooting from a cell phone that she had triangulated back to the East End. It had to have been the Joker.

"How many were there?" I growled as I finally pulled the cowl over my head.

"Including staff, ninety-seven people. Only eleven survivors, two of which managed to escape without a scratch although they were in the service entrance at the time of the attack so they didn't see anything. They haven't been able to question the other survivors, they're all in emergency surgery at Wilson Memorial."

Feeling the guilt already rising in me, I told her to send the address to my cycle before cutting the connection. As I took twenty-three seconds to check the compartments of my utility belt, I dialed my father's cell over the cowl's comm. link. It went straight to voicemail, and I left a message, "Dad, I know it's your anniversary but please, stay home with Dana… or if you've already headed down, go to the Clocktower and stay with Barbara, Dick and Cassandra. There's been another attack… I'm sorry, I just want to make sure you're safe."

Closing the call, I started the cycle up and activated the door just in time to let me fly through it.

It took another fifteen minutes to make it to the restaurant, one Bruce had treated us a number of times. The last time I had gone was for a dinner for DJG Security, celebrating the five-hundredth customer. Thankfully, the company had paid for the dinner considering it was in the four-digits between myself, Cass, Dick, Barbara and Will. After parking in the service alley across the street, I took to the rooftops in order to avoid the conglomeration of police, SWAT, ambulances and fire rescue trucks that had dominated the street below. Looking north towards the Park, my stomach churned at the sight of ambulances and coroner's vans lining up for their solemn task.

Perhaps it was best that I had slept all day, I certainly wasn't going to get another chance for a while.

While police scoured the interior, I took a moment to look through the service alleyway. There was a parked car wrapped with a loop of police tape and branded with an evidence impound marker. No doubt that was where our survivors had been. Passing by the car, I caught a sweet whiff of marijuana and mused that their illegal activities had spared their lives. No other car in the alley, only dumpsters and two parked catering trucks. No sign of tire marks of a hasty getaway, meaning the Joker must have parked elsewhere.

"O, I need external security footage on this place," I growled softly, "His car must have been out front."

She took a moment to reply, "I'm on it… But, Tim, you need to listen to me… you can't go in there."

As she had said that, I had already made my way through the open fire exit, a steel door riddled with bullets. It hadn't been fingerprinted yet., not that it mattered considering the Joker always wore leather gloves. "Oracle, I'm already in."

"Tim, please, you have to wait… you have to know…"

"Not now."

Her voice came strained over the link, as if she was crying, "Damnit, Tim… Just… listen."

"Is she okay?" I asked.

"Cass is fine… she's here… but… your father called you tonight… your voicemail."

"Good, I called him to tell him to stay home. Or if he was in Gotham to go to your place."

She drew a shaky breath, "No, this was earlier. You have to get out of there, Tim."

Barbara often called Nightwing by his real name while on patrols, as well as Cass, but she rarely said mine. It was either Batman, Blackbird for code or Boss. Before I could ask her what was going on, I heard Kelsey screaming at someone to get their ass out of her way. "I have to go, I have to talk to Kelsey."

"Tim, please…"

"Out," I growled before cutting the connection. I waited until only two Special Crimes detectives were standing with Kelsey in the middle of the back hallway before approaching. There were several doors on either wall, namely storage, bathrooms, an employee lounge area and a back entrance to the kitchen.

As the commissioner spotted me, she told her detectives to go out front and help match bodies with the reservation list. Alone she turned to face me, "This is a god damn mess…" When I remained silent, she proceeded, "Security cameras have him waltzing right in along with Harley, getting into a spat with the hostess and then just whipping out a pair of Mac M11's and just letting loose. Harley only had one seeing how her arm was in a sling… not that it really mattered."

She retrieved a package of cigarettes from her long coat's front pocket and promptly lit it before dragging hungrily. I couldn't help but think of Jim Gordon. After it was spent, she killed it on the heel of her shoe before pocketing the stub, not wanting to hinder the crime scene. After a sigh, Kelsey proceeded, "External cameras have them skipping out from the service alley and down the street."

"And the witnesses in the car?"

"Getting high and listening to alternative rock. Didn't hear a thing. One of them pissed themselves when the Joker and Harley came blasting out the emergency exit.. The busboys had locked it so they wouldn't get caught… Only one camera back there but it didn't get much. The kids said that the Joker ad walked up and shoved the gun in the car but when he pulled the trigger, he was out of bullets… promptly said, 'Ho hum, better luck next time.' Sick bastard."

I scanned the end of the hall as it opened into the restaurant. A flash of engraved silver caught my eye and after taking a step closer I say it was a plaque awarded three weeks earlier from the Gotham City Fine Dining and Entertainment Bureau.

The Best Time in Gotham.

_We have reservations at six-thirty at Smith & Wollensky's… Just rated the best time in Gotham…_

My breath was trapped in my chest, my heart beating so loud that I was barely able to hear Kelsey say, "No Old Joke yet but we have twenty forensics guys on this right now, another six coming in… Most of the victims were out front in the lounge or restaurant, about twelve were in the kitchen… Last two were found in the women's bathroom, trying to escape."

Keeping a hand hidden beneath my cape, I depressed the communication link button before toggling to my cell phone voicemail.

"Odd though," Kelsey looked up at me, "Turns out the couple in the bathroom were the parents of a man who works for DJG Security…can't say it's just coincidence, not after last weekend… I wonder if they were the targets… He certainly is picking them off one by one."

My father's frantic voice filled my head, "Tim… Tim, it's me… Please pick up… Tim?"

Kelsey added, "I have patrol cars at Grayson's residence, but I sent some over to the son's house but no one was there but a dog."

I then accessed the house voicemail, "Tim? Cassandra? Please, if you can hear me… something's happened… He's… He's here and he… Tim, he's shooting everyone… And Dana… please… I'm so sorry… I should have listened to you… Tim… It's not your fault… Please, believe me… You can't blame yourself…" A loud bang followed by steel hitting tile. "Tim," he had said before pausing, "I love you, son."

I tasted bile on my tongue. Kelsey was asking me if I was all right.

As my father's voice proceeded to say, "I love you, Dana," I charged into the women's bathroom. Checking the stalls one by one, I listened to my father's heavy breathing and the muted words and laughs or a mad man. Kelsey followed me in, not impressed that I had taken to ignoring her. Then, the Joker's voice came in my ears, "You know, for being the place for the Best Time in Gotham, these people were certainly dying to get out of here…"

The message, timed out, had cut off just as my father said, "Please. My wife… Do whatever you want to me b---."

They were in the last stall. Dressed for a night on the town, celebrating their anniversary. My father had his arms wrapped around Dana as they rested on the cold, dark tiled floor, his face buried into her neck. I had laid with Cassandra just like that earlier that morning.

Kelsey's radio squawked and she translated the static laced words, "They found the florist van, dumped in the East Reservoir. No sign of either of them."

Somehow, I managed to tour the entire restaurant, get digital copies of the security footage and make it back to my cycle before bursting into tears.

^V^

The Cave had never been so silent.

Not water dripping. No clatter of the keyboard. No bats taking flight. Nothing.

I had been sitting at the computer bay since Barbara had called me a little after seven that evening, informing me of the Joker's recent endeavor. Leaving Selina and Alfred to carry on with dessert for the kids, I had quickly descended the granite steps in order to get to the bottom of the incident. We both watched as security footage from the restaurant, cameras clearly depicting the Joker and Harley walking in, being insulted by the hostess and then shooting anyone in sight.

They hadn't been in the building for more than ten minutes but had expelled hundreds of rounds, sending two into witness interrogation, eleven to the hospital and another eighty-three to the morgue.

Including Jack and Dana Drake.

Shortly after she had called Tim to inform him of the attack, Cassandra had arrived at the Clocktower as to be home alone. Not that she wasn't capable of protecting herself, but given her injuries, it was best she had someone nearby. When she had arrived via taxi, Cassandra had been in tears, quick to inform Barbara of a message Jack Drake had left on their home voicemail. That had prompted Barbara to listen to it as well, of which she had tried to get Tim to wait before going into the restaurant.

I had listened to the message a dozen times, trying to pick up on what the Joker had been saying between fits of laughter. Even using the audio and analysis programs on the computer, I was barely able to bring the muted words to life. Knock-knock jokes whilst he banged on bathroom stall doors.

Followed shortly by Jack's final recorded words, begging for his wife's life.

As I prepared to listen to the message once more, I heard footsteps approaching from behind. Glancing at my watch, I realized it was just before three in the morning, long after I had promised to be back upstairs.

Rather than scorn me for lying, Selina walked around the chair and proceeded to sit in my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck as she settle her chin on my shoulder. I sighed as she molded herself to me, wrapping my arms around her lower back.

"Barbara called me… she said…" Selina's voice trailed off for a moment, "They can't find Tim anywhere… he's off of the comm. link, radar… deactivated his homing device…"

An appropriate response, I thought to myself.

"He mentioned undercover work to me this morning…"

Selina pulled back to look at me, "Do you honestly think he's working right now?"

"No."

Her eyes were tired, the green of her irises not half as bright as they usually were. No doubt mine were just as vacant.

I continued, "Kelsey sent a unit next door but there's no one home. Same with the townhouse. If anything he's in the East End, trying to pick up the trail from the Reservoir."

She hesitated before pressing her face to me again, "God help anyone that gets in his way… then again I don't think God is looking out for anyone in Gotham tonight."

Barbara came on the monitor suddenly, "I'm not interrupting am I?"

I shook my head but Selina had turned to face her, "No, figured he wasn't coming upstairs, might as well come downstairs."

The face on the screen nodded, "Logical. Good thing Dick is passed out in a recliner or else he'd want to come in and snuggle on my lap."

"How is he? I asked.

"Good. Little tender but he is trying to cut back on the pain meds, thinks he's too young for ulcers."

I nodded before inquiring, "And Cassandra?"

Barbara looked away for a moment before answering, "She took off about an hour ago… she was sleeping in her old room and when I went to check on Ethan I caught her suiting up in the training room…I tried to stop her, even tried hitting her with a tranq dart but she got away. Thankfully, she's stayed in communication with me."

"Has she found him, yet?" Selina asking, knowing all too well why Cassandra had acted as she had.

"No… But she found out that he had gone back to the Sat-Cave after the restaurant. He must have gotten himself injured, the medical bay had bloody gauze, an open suture kit… blood was still wet when she got there."

Forgoing his own safety, also an appropriate response.

"Anything come up from Forensics?" I asked suddenly.

"Nothing aside from bullet casings and blood patter charts… too much chaos to lift useful foot prints, on top of hundreds of fingerprints… I've been listening to Kelsey all night… No sign of an Old Joke yet but she still has them looking."

"I don't think there will be one," I said aloud.

"Why's that?" Barbara asked as Selina turned to look at me.

"I don't think it was planned…" I began to explain.

Selina spoke, "That's ridiculous, why would he attack the place with Jack and Dana were at if it wasn't planned?"

I shook my head, "Why would he go through the effort of finding where they were and not leave a note in the open? Why kill them as if they were just two innocent people? On the message, he made no mention of them being related to Tim, or that they were the target. The footage from the lobby when he fights with the hostess, I've been able to decipher what he said through lip reading… He wanted everything on the menu to go, he made no demands to know where the Drakes were."

"But if had tailed them from Bristol---," Barbara had suggested.

"He would have killed them before the hors d'oeuvres," I said coldly. I felt Selina shudder slightly as I continued, "Even still… we can't rule out the fact that he may know who Tim and Cassandra are. In one weekend he attacked Jim Gordon and his family as well as Dick and Will… He's waited a week and now he's gone after Cassandra and the Drakes…"

Barbara countered, "Cassandra was a fluke, he had no way of knowing she was going to be called to the Clinic."

I nodded, "Agreed, but it is another name off of his list. Same with the Drakes… even if the Joker doesn't know the importance of their deaths, it will affect the man he is after."

It already had.

Barbara resumed her work shortly after, claiming she wanted to look into the reservation list for any other possible targets. I had expected for Selina to leave me as well but she remained seated on my lap, upright while staring down at her folded hands in her lap. Finally she spoke up, "Bruce… I think… maybe you were right… maybe we should get the kids out of the city… At least until things settle down…"

"I want you to go to," I whispered.

Selina looked up at me, "No… Bruce…"

"Jack and Dana were going to leave for Connecticut… I want to make sure you're safe… before it's too late."

She leaned forward and kissed my lips softly, "Any place but the Fortress of Solitude..."

Although there was little reason, I offered a tired smile, ", Oh, but I hear the glacial ice is stunning this time of year.

As she tried to kiss me once more, the silence of the Cave was violently interrupted by the roar of a modified motorcycle. We both rose to our feet, watching as the black cycle tore down the narrow drive, coming to an abrupt stop before the dormant Mobile. Selina squeezed my hand and when I turned to look at her, she said, "Help him, Bruce…" before walking away.

I cautiously approached the dark, cloaked figure as he sat on the cycle, motionless. Pausing two yards away, I watched as he finally lowered the kickstand and swung a leg over the back of the bike. Given his state of mind, naturally, he hadn't been wearing his helmet.

"Tim," I started to say.

He shook his head before pulling back the cowl, revealing wet, red eyes and a ferocious glare. After a moment, he said, "Don't."

"I'm so sorry," I ignored his plea.

He seemed to ignore me as well, walking by me while talking aloud, "I went there this morning… I should have made him pack up and leave right then for the lake house… they'd be asleep in their bed right now… not in the morgue."

I followed him towards the main, open space of the Cave's main tier, "Tim you can't---."

He cut me off without looking back, "I said, don't… Bruce," he finally turned to look at me, "Please, just…"

Nodding, I adhered and remained silent.

"Even if I hadn't made them leave this morning, I still could have… I was supposed to go to dinner with them… But with Cass… I didn't want to leave her alone… I had to make sure she was… okay."

His gaze fell to the cold, stone floor.

My eyes never left his tortured face.

"But I was so tired… so many days… and I… just tired of being one step behind him, tired of not getting anywhere… I only meant to rest my eyes… didn't wake up until seven o' clock, and that's only because Cass practically ripped my arms off… It was too late… too late to catch the Joker, too late to save Dad and Dana…"

Tears began to slip over his rough cheeks, I took a step towards him but he turned away.

I finally said, "You can't blame yourself, Tim… you had no way of knowing this was going to happen…. I know the despair you're feeling, it's overwhelming, but there wasn't anything you could have done to---."

He spun around, anger starting to overcome the sadness in his expression, "You don't know anything, Bruce! You were a child when your parents were killed, _you _couldn't have done anything! I am grown man, trained to protect people, to save innocents… _I_ could have done something."

There was no use in arguing with him, not in his emotional state. Especially since had had a point. I took a breath before approaching him once more, standing directly in front of Tim, "I spent my entire life dwelling over my mistakes, Tim… both the ones that harmed complete strangers and those that took lives of those I cared for… I know right now… it's difficult to bear, but you have to think of those you have saved---."

He looked up at my coldly, "The number of people I've saved is surpassed by the people I've let die. The people I've saved mean nothing if I've let my father die." When I reached out to touch his shoulder and he chopped my arm away from him, "Don't, Bruce… don't touch me."

"Tim… I do know what you're going through. You know I do… and we both know that you never get over something like this but… you will get through it."

"I don't think so," his response was softer than the growl he had last uttered, "It was my job to protect him and Dana… and Cass… to protect Gotham. I failed."

"No, you haven't, it isn't over yet…" I set my hand on him once more and was relieved when he remained still.

The tears were flowing over his cheeks as he replied, barely above a whisper, "It is for me."

It took a moment for his words to register in my mind, although defensive words came instantly, "This city needs you now more than ever, Tim. _We _need you… I… need you." When he didn't respond, I proceeded, "If you quit now… the Joker wins."

Tim finally shook his head, "No," pausing as he detached the cowl in order to hold it in his gloved hands, "If I don't quit, he will win… he'll get what he's always wanted."

I had discussed this with both him and Alfred a number of times over the last few months: the Joker wanted Batman to kill him.

"You're better than that, you're stronger than that, Tim…. I wouldn't have given you that cowl if I didn't think you weren't capable of standing up against all the obstacles I once faced!"

Although my voice had risen, his continued to drop, "After what he's done… if I find him…" he extended his arms and put the cowl into my hands, "I'll kill him… and I can't do that… I can't do that to you."

Without another word, he walked by me, returning to the cycle, donning the helmet before revving it to life. I watched as he tore out of the Cave before dropping my eyes to the cowl in my hands, damp from his tears.

My worst fear had become reality.

"Bruce…" I heard Selina call my name softly as she approached from the stairs, "I'm sorry, I just couldn't go upstairs… not after hearing him… God, Bruce what are we going to do?"

As she stood in front of me, I finally looked up from the reflective lenses of the cowl.

"Bruce…" she began as her lower lip trembled, "Bruce, no… you can't possibly think---."

I about faced and started towards the costume vault, "Send Alfred down here on your way upstairs."

"Bruce, you can't do this!" she snapped as she caught up with me, latching her nails deep in my bicep to turn me around.

"I know I can't… but I have to."

^V^


	15. Now And Then: XV

Title: Now And Then: XV

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The Family is divided between stopping and supporting Bruce's decision.

Rating: T

Infringement: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: A quiet chapter to take a breather with before diving into the home stretch of this beastly story...

A/N 2: Nod to the incredible The Incredibles in Tim's POV. I love the tricycle kid.

^V^

Despite the latest tragedy to befall the Family, I found myself unable to stay awake in order to lend my support to Master Bruce as he upheld his post in the Cave. Shortly after eleven that evening, I bid good night to Ms. Selina before making my way to my quarters, preparing for a night of fitful slumber and troubling thoughts. Surprisingly, upon reclining in bed, sleep came to me quickly, no doubt the compounded physical and emotional tolls finally settling in to my old bones.

Years ago, footsteps in the corridor would have snapped me from a dead sleep, let alone a soft rapping on the door.

A solid, series of resounding knocks had barely roused me, despite the intensity behind them. Donning my housecoat, I rose from the bed, neglected my slippers and quickly crossed the room to greet my late night visitor. Expecting Master Bruce, or even Master Tim, seeking console, I was surprised to see Ms. Selina's face.

"You have to stop him, Alfred."

"Stop whom?" I inquired, finally taking in the worried look that had seized her normally calm features.

"Tim… he came to the Cave… Bruce tried tot talk to him but he wouldn't listen…" she stepped into my sitting area, although her hurried steps suggested she had no intentions of relaxing. Leaving the door ajar, I turned to face her, noting that the clock on the far wall read nearly half past-three.

Relieved that my young charge had taken the initiative to visit his mentor in his most desperate hour, I felt my breathing ease and a weight fade from my chest. The tragic twist of fate that had taken his father and step-mother was certainly going to be difficult to accept and to move on from. "I'll prepare him a room immediately, no doubt the young lad is in need of rest…"

Ms. Selina shook her head, "He's already gone… Alfred, he quit…"

"I beg your pardon?" I inquired, having misheard her.

She took a deep breath before replying, "Tim quit… I watched him give the cowl back to Bruce and then he just took off…"

Without hesitation, I offered a hand on her elbow and quiet words, "No doubt he is greatly conflicted at this moment… perhaps in the morning---."

Ms. Selina shook her head, "No, Alfred… the look in his eyes… the things he said… He told Bruce that if he kept the cowl, he was going to kill the Joker for what he had done… and that he didn't want that to happen. That he didn't want to do that to Bruce."

Forcing optimism, I nodded, "A noble gesture… one that perhaps we can convince him out of… I presume Master Bruce is still downstairs."

"He told me to get you… that he wanted you to go down to… I don't know… I told him he can't do this, that it's insane…"

There was no need for clarification considering that his only protégés were either dead, infirm or in self-exile, it left only himself to make a stand.

"You have to stop him, Alfred… He stepped down for a reason."

"A number of reasons, my dear… of which I will be sure to remind him of," I had added before taking a moment to don my slippers. I should have promised her that everything was going to be all right but there was no point in lying, not after all that we had endured over the course of the last four months.

Nothing was going to be all right, not any time soon.

Ms. Selina had followed me to the stairwell pausing as I quickly descended them to the ground floor. Although I felt her eyes on the back of my head with each step, when I reached the base and glanced upwards, she was already gone.

Navigating to the study, I hesitated before unlocking the secret entrance in order to glance up at the massive oil portrait of Master Thomas and Ms. Martha. With a heavy sigh, I spoke, "Let us hope that your stubborn son will heed my words."

I took the stone steps more slowly, intently listening as various sounds echoed in the mighty cavern. The overhead lights had been turned on, agitating the bats as they restlessly flew about the Cave rather than settle in for a good night's rest. A soft curse sounded as I reached the main floor and my eyes located the source in the laboratory.

Master Bruce stood over a work table with his back to me, shaking his right hand which, not surprisingly, was bare of its splint. Although I was unable to see what he was tooling on, the white sparks that flashed suggested it was of an electrical nature. I studied him for a minute as he resumed his work, this time using the tool in his left hand.

Approaching the area, I spotted that the remain four tables were filled with plastic bags, each containing bits of evidence retrieved from the Joker's hideout. He and Master Tim had studied them intently for days and yet they remained out in the open, acting as a haunting inspiration. Walking around the back of the table, I took to standing directly across from him before folding my arms over the front of my housecoat.

The item he was working so diligently on had been none other than a right hand gauntlet. From a cursory glance, I was able to note that he had already removed the outer of the glove in order to secure reinforcements to the interior. In his left hand, he held a laser torch, a device he had developed himself to perform precise instrument repair and modification. I was able to recall a young Master Tim wanting to alter it into a light saber.

So many years ago…

"Might one suggest you alter the left glove as well, Master Bruce?"

He ignored my words, setting the silver tool down in order to peel back the remaining fabric, exposing the fingertips. The index finger held a pulse and vital monitoring device and the thumb bore a link to the communication system, allowing him to use Morse code had he no use for verbally asking for help. As he removed the brass bulbs that were inserted above each knuckle, he quietly announced, "Tim quit."

"As Ms. Selina so frantically informed me."

At the mention of his wife's emotional state, he glanced up at me, removing the darkened glasses that had been protecting his eyes from his work. Where Ms. Selina's eyes had been darting and restless, his bore a look of intensity that I hadn't seen in six years.

Finally, he looked back to his work, arranging pieces of the Dragon Armor plates for cutting and the probable insertion into the glove, "I told her to ask you down here to help, not guilt trip me into changing my mind."

"I am at your service, Master Bruce," I paused before continuing, "Although, this is a decision not to take lightly, sir."

"You think I don't know that?" he snapped, standing up to his full height glare down at me from across the table, "You think this is easy for me?"

"All I am suggesting, Master Bruce, is that we all take a moment… a step back, as it were. Perhaps after a day or two, Master Tim will be able to---."

He slammed his left fist down on the stainless steel table, causing the pieces of modified ceramics to clatter and fall out of order, "Time isn't going to bring the Drakes back to life, Alfred! Time isn't going to erase everything that has happened in the last four months!"

I remained silent and stoic.

Master Bruce followed my cue and relaxed, "I should have stepped in at the beginning… this wasn't his fight… it wasn't any of theirs… it's always been mine."

"The war on crime can not be fought by just one man, sir."

He sighed softly, "No… but this isn't war, Alfred… it's a feud between the two of us," his gaze left my face and traveled to the tables of evidence bags, "Anyone that has ever stepped in the middle of it has lost something. I have to stop it. I have to stop him."

The bats called out their support from up high.

Master Bruce proceeded to reorganize the plates as he continued, "My decision has been made."

"Very well, sir," I nodded, "I'll begin tailoring a suit immediately."

Master Bruce paused, then inquired, "That's it?"

"It is apparent that you have no intention of changing your mind, nor calling for aide from your former colleagues. Unless you desire me to talk you out prematurely cutting your self-imposed retirement short in order to face your oldest and greatest nemesis, of which will no doubt end in your untimely demise, leaving behind your wife, children, not to mention your grandson and the remainder of the Family, of which will no doubt avenge your death by slaying the Joker himself, of which was what your involvement was designed to prevent in the first…"

"That's enough," he said. I expected a growl but his tone was soft and pained, "I know I stepped down for a reason Alfred… But he's just as old and out of practice as I am, if not more so."

"Old, yes, Master Bruce, but he is certainly not out of practice," I countered bluntly, intentionally striking a chord.

After a quiet minute, he continued, "Which is why it has to be me that ends this. He'll never stop, not unless it is at my hands."

"Which is why I feel both gloves should be well-enforced, Master Bruce."

We spent the remaining hours of the night altering his last suit, inserting the new Dragon Armor plates wherever feasible as to reduce the risk to his well-being. It would certainly weigh him down, but I thought to myself that it would make up for the weight he had lost since he had stepped down. Although he was certainly in near perfect condition given his age, he had slowly reduced his muscle mass, bringing his weight down to just under one-ninety compared to its former two hundred and fifteen pounds.

It had been enough to allow him to stills port his fashionable wardrobe, save for the Batsuit.

As he allowed the epoxy liners to dry and mold to his flesh, Ms. Barbara's voice and image came over the Computer. It was just before seven in the morning and rather than spending it feeding her young child or caring for her infirm husband, she was still hard at work. She started to greet Master Bruce but upon seeing him in his plastic covered state, she stammered, "It's true, isn't it… I didn't want to believe what Selina said…"

"Precautionary measures, Ms. Barbara. Master Bruce still intends to speak with Master Tim, to see if he set matters as they should be. Isn't that right, sir?" I asked as I abruptly ripped the soon to be glove liner from his right hand and forearm.

He growled a curse under his breath before instinctively clenching the hand and holding closer to his chest. After a breath, he replied, "Has Cassandra contacted you?"

"No, not since shortly after I last called you… Tim didn't say anything about where he was going?"

Master Bruce shook his head as I more carefully removed the left glove liner, "No… but given his concern for Cassandra, I expect they have met up and are staying out of communication. The Drake residence and the townhouse aren't safe now that the patrol carts are posted… They're most likely at the Sat-Cave."

"I thought the same, but it hasn't been accessed since after Cass checked it out… I activated a shutdown on it and it hasn't been altered with… Wait… they just unlocked the Townhouse… getting feedback on the scanner, they're changing patrol cars… refused protective custody and relocation…"

"Get in touch with him. We'll need to meet later today."

"I'll try… and Bruce?"

He waited to reply until after I had removed the cowl's liner, which left his short, dark gray hair standing on end, "What?"

Ms. Barbara paused, the emotion in her eyes conflicting with the serious look on her face, "If you really want to do this… I'm with you."

Before either of us could respond, she cut the connection.

"Well, that makes two of us, Master Bruce."

He seemed to ignore my words and said, "You'll need to help them pack… I want them at the Watchtower by this afternoon."

Earlier in our late night activities, he had informed me that Ms. Selina had finally agreed to relocating the children to a safer location until the threat was no more. When he had stated that she would need to go as well, she had refuted. I was certain it was going to take quite a bit more than the Joker to separate husband and wife.

"Very well, sir," I replied. "And shall I inform them of the reason I am packing their belongings in suitcases?"

"No… I'll… I'll tell them. After breakfast."

"No doubt they will be elated."

He rose from the chair and inquired, "About going to the Watchtower? I suppose…"

Shaking my head, I countered, "No, I was thinking more along the lines that they will be able to see their father in his natural element. One last time."

Upon arriving in the Cave earlier that evening, I hadn't been able to contain my worries that it was a death wish to face the Joker. It had come up once more as I fitted the new Dragon Armor chest plates over his torso, arms and neck. Certainly, it was a distinctive outcome, one more probable than any other. Master Bruce had been quick to acknowledge it, saying, "I have no intentions of giving the Joker the luxury of killing me."

I had wanted to respond something to the effect that he most certainly was but managed to keep my tongue.

Although I had not meant to bring up the morbid concept once more, but Master Bruce had taken it as such, "Old bats never die, Alfred… They just wait until it's dark."

^V^

"If you really want to do this… I'm with you."

I stepped into the room just as Barbara closed a communication window with Bruce and Alfred. Despite being partially high on Tramadol, I had been able to discern that both had been in the Cave despite it being after seven in the morning.

As much as I wanted to stay up to do what little I could to help find Tim, I found myself giving into not only the desire for sleep but unbearable pain searing through my shoulder. Ice packs, pain killers and rest had been my primary homecare instructions upon leaving the hospital but it was difficult to maintain a schedule with a toddler running amuck in the apartment.

And a madman wrecking havoc in the streets.

"Where's Ethan?" Barbara asked without turning to face me.

"Bouncy chair… he's fed and changed… although I just put a tee shirt on him for now… couldn't quite pull a pair of pants on one-handed," I answered while glancing over the various monitors that were still on. One was broadcasting the local morning news coverage of the attack on the restaurant, two displayed slideshows of photographs of the various crime scenes and evidence that had racked up over the last few months while a fourth showed security camera footage of the Gotham City morgue.

The six stainless steel tables each held a body while blue-smocked coroners went about dissecting them… not ideal breakfast entertainment.

The very thought of the Joker killing the Drakes had been completely incomprehensible, ranking right up there with killing Sarah Essen-Gordon. Although he had attacked a number of us over the last two weeks, he hadn't intentionally struck us with mortal wounds. I could only imagine what Tim was going through, and his venture into the night alone and unmonitored had suggested that he wasn't ready to share his feelings.

"Did you find him?" I asked as I stepped closer. Before I had gone to bed at a little after one, I had checked in with Barbara to see if they had been able to locate either him or the Joker. In response, she had sighed and shaken her head.

I was relieved to see her answer my latest inquiry with a nod and, "Yes… Cass left late last night to look for him… he called her when he reached the Sat-Cave around four in the morning... They have police stationed there but I doubt the Joker would risk it, even to get at either one of them."

"Why?"

She hesitated, moving her chair around to face me as I stood beside her, "Bruce seems to think that it was chance that the Drakes were at the restaurant. He's watched the security footage from the reception area dozens of times and thinks the Joker simply walked in, demanded everything on the menu to go and when the hostess denied him, he simply started shooting everyone."

"Isn't it more plausible that he knew the Drakes were there?"

Barbara paused again, "No… I think Bruce is right. It's just a tragic twist of fate. If he knew the Drakes were there, he would have targeted them right away then finish of the witnesses, not the other way around."

She had a point, but I couldn't help but see Jim, Maureen and Will's faces flash before my eyes. I waited a beat, then proceeded, "At any rate, it's good that he's home… I want to go over there this morning, spend some time with him."

"Dick… something else happened last night."

Feeling a stone sink to the bottom of my stomach, I asked, "What?"

"Tim… went to talk to Bruce. Selina called me afterwards but… Tim quit. He gave the cowl back to Bruce and then left."

The stone turned to a boulder and I asked, "What do you mean he quit? He can't quit."

"Dick… in all honesty, it's probably for the best. After last night, he's not emotionally fit for the job, obviously he knew that because he stepped down before he could make a mistake, especially one he would regret."

"None of us are emotionally fit right now… it doesn't mean we turn our backs on---."

Barbara snapped suddenly, her eyes narrowing, "Stop it, Dick! We're all stressed out over trying to hunt the Joker down… of having him know who we are! Tim just walked in on his father and step-mother's dead bodies at a goddamn crime scene! He's not turning his back on anyone!"

For once, I kept my mouth shut.

After drawing a long breath, she continued, "As I was saying… Tim stepped down, and for now, it's for the best. Facing the Joker in that altered of a state of mind… he is going to end up getting himself killed… or killing the Joker. Either way, he's doing the right thing."

"If it's the right thing, Barbara… then who the hell is going to bring down the Joker?"

When she glanced back to the monitor where Bruce's face was a minute earlier, I growled, "No. If anyone will get himself killed, it will be Bruce!" I thought back to what she had said when I had walked in and accused, "You're with him, aren't you?"

"Dick, there's no one else."

I shot back, "Tim may not be emotionally capable of handling this, but Bruce isn't even remotely physically capable and if he thinks he can ignore that then---."

She cut in before I could finish, "He knows he can't… Selina called me after Tim had left, she said that when she started to yell at Bruce for even thinking about putting the cowl back on he had tried to ignore her… Then when she reminded him he physically couldn't do it, he agreed with her. He knows he can't but that's not going to stop him. He doesn't have a choice, not anymore."

"There's always a choice," I whispered, thinking back to countless arguments I held with my mentor, "It's just a matter of making the right one." When Barbara asked me what I was talking about, I shook my head, "Never mind… It's just… this is all so surreal… It's happening too fast… It…"

"It was never supposed to happen in the first place," she said for me.

Knowing that fighting with my exhausted wife wasn't going to accomplish anything, I decided to start a fight that might actually make a difference.

Striding into the hall, Barbara called out after me, "Dick, where are you going?"

I didn't respond as I raced to the master bedroom, carefully pulling a button up shirt on. By the time I had managed to pull on a pair of worn jeans and equally worn Sambas, Barbara had made it to the door. She paused in the entrance before crossing her arms over her chest. While looking for my keys and cell phone, I attempted to explain myself, "I'm sorry, Babs… I just… I need to talk to him."

"Who, Tim or Bruce?"

Latching onto a pair of keys, I turned to answer her, "Both. This is… I mean… Tim stepping down after all these years… and Bruce thinking he can just step up… after all these years… It's insane."

"I know, Dick, I know what you're thinking but you have to understand---."

Stepping directly in front of her, I shook my head, "No, I don't, Barbara, they have to understand… once this starts… no one is going to be able to stop it."

She opened her mouth to try and convince me otherwise but proceeded to drop her head and move out of the doorway. Rather than simply storm by her, I paused to kiss her on the cheek and promised to be back for my noon drainage tube heparin flush. Barbara looked up and shook her head but when I tried to offer a warm smile, she looked away.

"What?"

"There are still cops outside… when they radio dispatch to see if they should follow you, I'll plant a faux request for them to stay put."

"You're the best, Babs."

She should have smiled at me but instead she frowned.

The Joker was tearing the Family to pieces.

Although I wanted nothing more than race through the streets to Bryanttown on my cycle, the wounded bird that I was left me climbing into the Range Rover. Although we had recently traded in the older model for the current year's, it's mileage still was pathetic. Taking a moment, I filled up before reaching Tim's knowing I wasn't going to make it to and from Bristol afterwards on E.

A full tank set me back eighty-six dollars and the time it took to pump twenty-six gallons earned me a flirty smile from the girl topping off her Camry on the other side of the pump station. When I smiled and nodded back, she bit her lip and asked, "Aren't you that cop?"

Yes, the hero cop who killed the bank robber and ended up on the cover of every news magazine, yes I most certainly was…

Shrugging, I replied, "Sorry, I'm afraid I'm just a yuppie."

"A what?" she asked, honest confusion on her twenty year old, tan face.

"Never mind," I laughed before putting the gas cap back on. Ah, to be that young again, and naïve.

I made it Tim's just as the digital clock turned to eight in the morning. Two patrol cars were parked in front of the townhouse while an unmarked sat further up the street. I opted to pull directly up beside the patrol car closer to the driveway, motioning for them to roll down their windows.

"Morning officer," I nodded at the tired man in the driver's seat, "Wondering if it would be all right if I dropped in to visit with my co-workers."

"Nobody in or out pal, move along," he growled, no doubt displeased with his night long guard duty.

"I'd just be a second… I want to see if he was okay," I offered, still trying to play nice.

The officer got out of his car, keeping a hand on his holster as he approached the driver's side, "Can I see some identification, sir?"

I gladly showed him my driver's license as well as my DJG Security access card, "Tim works for me… I heard about what happened last night… can hardly believe it."

"Thought there were patrolman at your residence, Mr. Grayson," he peered into my car, instinctively checking the back seat.

"I saw them, but they didn't follow me or anything. My wife and son are still home, so I guess it's better that they stayed behind."

He hesitated before stepping away from the car, using his cell phone briefly. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to listen in as he had his back to me and was doing a good job of speaking quietly. I took the time to glance over the front of the house, focusing in on a second floor window when the curtain was pulled back just enough to reveal Cassandra's bandaged head.

"Sorry, sir, Mr. Drake says he doesn't want anyone inside…" the officer's voice brought my gaze back to him.

"Seriously? I just want to say---."

"Sir, I'm sorry." His tone and the expression on his face said he could have cared less.

I pulled forward into the neighbor's driveway, quickly pulling out my cell and dialing the house number. Cassandra's voice answered via the voicemail greeting and I hung up before calling Tim's cell phone, listening it to ring as the officer approached my vehicle once more. Again, no answer. I tried again and was directed instantly to leave a message.

Damn him.

Before the officer could tell me to move along once more, I backed out onto the street and made my way back to the expressway, cursing Tim for being a coward and not being able to face me. I knew it was difficult to lose a parent in such a sudden and violent manner, but I would have done anything to have someone be there at my side who understood what I was going through. When my parents had been murdered, thankfully, I had Bruce waiting for me at ringside.

At least his house wouldn't be surrounded by tired, cranky city cops.

It took nearly a half of an hour to get out of the city, and then another twenty minutes to make it to Bristol. My remote opened the gates and no doubt alerted Bruce of my presence on the property, whether he was in his Cave or study. After parking in back of the garage, I used the service entrance which was surprisingly unlocked. Upon shutting it, I heard it lock behind me and realized it had only been opened for me.

Ace was laying in the kitchen doorway and went from asleep to alert and on his feet in a blink of eye. When he realized I was friend and not foe, he took a step forward, licked my hand and then lead the way through the kitchen and towards the nook. Mattie, Nathan and Alfred were sharing a late breakfast of French toast, melon wedges and bacon. Although Alfred spotted me, the children had their backs to me, allowing me to sneak up and steal a piece of bacon off of Nathan's plate.

"Hey!" he yelled out before looking up at me, "Where'd you come from?"

"Aside from the circus?" I asked as I roughed up his hair. I looked to Mattie and asked, "Please tell me there's some left, smells delicious."

She apologized, "Sorry… but Mom and Dad still has to eat yet… If you want to eat with them…"

I nodded, "Sounds good… where is the old man?"

Alfred rose as he clarified, "I believe he is changing for the day."

"After sitting the stinky Cave all night…" Nathan laughed as he stabbed a piece of melon.

It still caught me off guard that Bruce had told him the truth at such a young age. Then again, a tragic event had happened just before each of the children had learned the truth. For Mattie, it had been the death of Jim Gordon and for Nathan it had been the accumulated attacks on the Family by the Joker. Then again, I had no place judging Bruce considering my toddler son called my masked face. "Dahdee,"

"I think I'll run up and chat with him quick… then have some of Alfred's famous French toast."

Leaving the Wayne children under the watchful eye of Ace, I followed Alfred back through the kitchen and into the hallway. We nearly reached the stairway before he spoke, "Master Dick… I believe it would be rhetorical to inquire as to whether or not you know what you're doing?"

"Are you kidding? I have no clue… I don't know what any of us are doing, not now…" I let my eyes drift away for a moment.

He let out a quiet sigh before replying, "Master Bruce is sending the children to the Watchtower… I believe he intends to send you, Ms. Barbara and young Master Ethan as well."

I wasn't surprised by this and replied before ascending the stairs to my certain doom, "Yeah, we'll see about that." I had made it up five steps when Bruce came into my line of sight, quickly making his way down to me. Of course, he knew I was there. He had unlocked the service entrance and had kept me from getting electrified, gassed and plasma sprayed by the security system.

"Meet me in the study," he said without looking at me.

"Good morning to you, too, Bruce," I called after him as he made his way down the hall towards the kitchen.

A dark look must have come over my face as I found Alfred setting a hand on my shoulder, "Please, Master Dick… if your discussion comes to blows once more… do try to duck this time."

^V^

Given how late I had gotten to bed, I had wanted nothing more but crawl into bed and sleep forever, waking only when the world decided to stop falling to pieces.

Instead, I had been awoken when Bruce tried to sneak into the room at a quarter after seven.

Listening from under the covers, I mentally tracked him as he showered, shaved and took his morning anti-inflammatory medications. After stepping out of the bathroom, I caught him from the corner of my partially exposed eye as he walked across the room nude and into the walk-in closet. Given the day was starting, I found it odd that he emerged wearing only a pair of dark blue flannel pants.

Rather than crawl under the covers and risk waking me, he opted to lay on top of them, reclining on his side while keeping a few inches between us.

I had last seen him four hours earlier, after Tim had briefly made an appearance to resign his commission as the world's greatest detective. After coming out of hiding, I had confronted Bruce, instantly attacking him for his decision to take up the mantle once more. He had tried brushing me off, asking me to send Alfred down when I returned upstairs but I had acted as if I had ignored him.

_Bruce, you can't do this!_

_I know I can't… but I have to._

The self-doubt and uncertainty that had taken hold of him had been sobering, quickly turning my anger to fear. I had gone from grabbing him by the arm to pulling myself up to him, pressing my lips against his. Rather than mold himself to me, he had been like a statue, solid and cold. I had wanted to slap him to snap him out of it but decided there had been enough violence between us over the last few weeks.

When I had released him, I had asked once more, "Please, Bruce… don't do this."

He had gently touched my face before responding, "I'm the only who can."

After I had left him in the Cave and sought Alfred upstairs, I had found safety in the master bedroom, trying to convince myself that it was all a horrible nightmare. I had instinctively called Barbara to vent my worries but she had cut the conversation short, saying Cassandra was contacting her about the search for Tim. Fifteen years earlier, I wouldn't have imagined there would have been a point in my life when being alone would be a bad thing.

Reluctantly, I lifted the covers and exposed myself to the cool air of the bedroom, quickly finding warmth by pressing myself against Bruce. He seemed surprised by the gesture but didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around me as I pressed my face into his bare chest. After a silent moment, I asked, "Did they find him?"

"Yes, they're at the townhouse, with two units posted out front Another two circling the neighborhood in unmarked cars. Same for the Clocktower, the DA's house and the Free Clinic."

I paused while pulling myself up in order to rest face to face, "They're safe."

"Safer," he replied, his face looking very tired and very old in the dim light that had managed to make its way through the drapes. I felt a cold foot touch mine before he continued, "I've contacted J'onn. He's making arrangements at the Watchtower… my old quarters are still vacant as is an adjacent room."

"I'm not going," I curtly reminded him.

His eyes softened when I expected them to narrow, "I know. I'm having beds arranged for Mattie, Nathan and Ethan… as well as Alfred and possibly---."

"You honestly think Alfred is going to go?"

"I need someone to go with them… someone who knows them… someone I trust … someone I know who will do anything to protect them."

I hesitated before suggesting, "What about Dick?"

"I was thinking that he should go. Barbara is more than capable of operating as Oracle from the Watchtower but I know she won't leave the city. Not until all is said and done."

"If she stays, Dick will," I said before reaching up to touch his smooth face, "Tim should go… Cassandra too if we can knock her out or something… Mattie says she helped her with katas yesterday morning, acted like she hadn't just been shot in the head---."

"Mattie didn't tell me that."

"She probably didn't want to get her big sister in trouble… They know the kids. You trust them, you know they'll do anything to protect them."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"

I smiled sadly, "Both."

Bruce went silent, no doubt his mind inundated with thoughts. He then shifted his head to kiss my palm before asking, "I want you to go with them. I'm asking nicely."

Shaking my head, I countered, "I know you are old and brain damaged, but I remember you once promising me something…"

"To never keep things from you, that doesn't---."

I cut him off my covering his mouth. With his undivided attention, I corrected him, "You vowed to be true and loyal, patient in sickness, comforting in sorrow, and understanding in times of trouble. You promised to stand by me no matter what came to pass and that you would make whatever adjustments necessary so that you could genuinely share your life with me. You promised to always keep yourself completely open to me, being my best friend as well as my lover and forsaking all others, keeping yourself for me alone… so long as we both shall live."

When I let go of him, he smirked, "You remembered all of that?"

I smirked as well, "Mattie and I watched the video of the wedding ceremony last week."

He kissed my hand again, the smirk fading from his lips as sincerity overcame him, "Haven't broken too many of those promises, have I?"

"Are you kidding me? You've broken all of them. If you think I was joking about alimony and child support---."

Bruce's lips found mine, breaking away so he could whisper, "I have kept myself for you alone… and I intend to," he kissed me again as his arms pulled me closer, then added, "So long as we both shall live."

A week ago we had been at each other's throats over his violent reaction to the attack on Jim and Maureen as well as the discovery that the Joker knew their secret identities. To make up, we had proceeded to be aggressive in bed, Bruce pinning my arms to my sides hard enough to leave faint bruises in the shape of fingertips. Not that I had been gentle in biting his lower lip and grinding my pelvis roughly against his…

That morning had been the complete opposite, both in our words and actions.

We had the capacity for tenderness but generally didn't have the patience. I recalled countless random couplings over our years together when he had cornered me in the kitchen of my penthouse, or I had tripped him to lay with me on the floor as well as one interesting evening in the billiards room of Wayne Manor. We were aggressive by nature and it reflected in our arguments and reconciliations.

But after thirty years, he still had it.

We had fallen asleep afterwards, although after I had lured him under the warmth of the disheveled down comforters. I had hoped, for Bruce's sake, that Mattie and Nathan would make their way downstairs for a breakfast with their favorite grandfather figure as opposed to making a storm on Castle Mom and Dad's Room. Before I had dozed off, I reached out for Bruce's hand, smiling sleepily when he whispered, "Ten-thirty."

When I looked up to see it was barely seven-forty and I was quick to realize that's when he wanted me to wake him.

I didn't get the chance. At nine, an alarm on the world's greatest laptop chirped from Bruce's nightstand and he instantly shot up in bed in order to retrieve it. I sat up, much more slowly, keeping the covers drawn up over my bare body, "What is it?"

"Dick's coming up the drive," Bruce answered as he punched in a few keys before closing the laptop and returning it to the small table. I watched on as he rose from the bed, donning the discarded briefs and flannel pants that he had changed into and out of not two hours earlier. He made a quick stop at the dresser to retrieve a dark gray cotton tee as well as the splint that he wore far too intermittently to allow for the fractured bones in his hand to heal.

Surprisingly, he returned to the bed for a moment, leaning across from his side to kiss my cheek before leaving the bedroom.

Opting out of sleep as well, I climbed out of bed and dashed across the floor to the bathroom. Once the shower had heated up, I dove in, quickly scrubbing away whatever fog was left in my system. Unlike Bruce, I decided to get dressed for the day, donning stone washed jeans, a white sleeveless blouse and a fitted black blazer. After putting my still damp hair up in a chaotic bun, I found a pair of slip on shoes and proceeded to make my way into the hall.

Downstairs, I followed voices to the kitchen where Mattie was drying dishes as Alfred washed them. Nathan gave away my arrival with a loud declaration of, "Mom! It's about time you woke up!"

They turned to look at me just as my son crashed into my legs, his arms locking around my waist. I rubbed his back while bidding him good morning and then, after being released, approached my daughter. I kissed the top of her head as she proceeded to take a glass bowl from Alfred, "There's breakfast in the nook."

"Thanks, kiddo, but I'm not hungry," I said, a smile coming to my lips as Nathan proceeded to hide behind the island counter.

"Dad and Dick are in the study," she answered my unasked question.

After nodding, I looked to see the big, black figure sitting stoically at the back entrance of the kitchen. I then said, "Mattie why don't you help Nathan take Ace out for a bit, I'll help Alfred finish up."

Nathan leapt out from hiding and called out to his furry friend, "Ace, hiere!" before racing out of the room, the dog heeling just behind him.

Mattie gave me the dish towel with a sigh and when I asked what was wrong, she shook her head, "Dad said he had to talk to us after he talked to Dick… something is obviously wrong."

Before I could offer her false assurances, she stepped out of the room and disappeared into the hall. Alfred drew my eyes away as he said, "Master Dick appeared to be feeling quite well this morning."

"Why do you say that, did he punch Bruce in the face?"

Alfred shook his head as he rinsed a glossy whisk, "Oh, not at all Ms. Selina… although… it has nearly been fifteen minutes… he very well may have by now…"

"You'd think after twenty-five years they would be civil," I growled under my breath as I turned to leave.

"If I may, Ms. Selina…" Alfred stopped me with his soft, certain tone, "After twenty-five years… you and Master Bruce continue to shift between being civil and… rather uncivil."

He was right. As always.

When I opened the study door, I expected to see Bruce and Dick yelling at one another. Dick would no doubt have been irate over Bruce's decision to become Batman once more. Bruce, never one to back down from an argument, would be defending himself with words and bat-glares. They were supposed to have been standing directly in front of one another, mere inches between their angry faces, spittle flying, brows narrowed…

Opening the door, I found that Dick and Bruce were standing in front of one another and that they were upset, although not angry. Bruce had a hand holding Dick's right shoulder, his brow furrowed with concern and worry. Dick's brow was equally furrowed, although his trembling lower lip was a dead giveaway that he wasn't about to strike Bruce in the face.

Neither of them acknowledged my presence until after Bruce said, "---it'll be over…. For good… and that's a promise, Dick."

When they looked to me, I tried to break the painful moment by saying, "I'm sorry, I must have stepped through the looking glass… I was looking for the brawl scheduled in the study…"

Dick reached up to wipe his eyes with the back of his right hand, "Same here." As I approached, Dick said, "Well… guess I have to go home and start packing the world's biggest diaper bag… Not sure if they have a spot in the scrapbook album Barbara has for _Baby's First Trip to Outer Space_…"

Bruce offered a brief smirk before offering, "While you're at it you can pack bags for yourself and Barbara."

Dick shook his head, trying to use humor in order to right his turmoil emotions, "And miss the grand finale, hell no. I want front row seats… Backstage passes…" he paused before finishing, "Just as stubborn as you, I guess… the both of you."

After he excused himself, I stepped in front of Bruce, "What did you tell him?"

"My plan."

"Oh, do tell?"

His smirk returned, "Sorry, crime fighters only."

I leaned in to kiss him, stopping just short of contact, "Jackass."

^V^

Knowing Terry had a gym elective that morning, kayaking in the stream that ran along the back of our school, I knew he would pick up his cell phone.

"Hey," he greeted, "You do know spring break is over, right?"

"I know… something's happened…"

"Is Dick okay?" Terry was quick to ask.

"Yeah… he's here actually… but… you know that restaurant the Joker attacked last night?"

Terry paused before confirming, "Of course, it's been on the news nonstop, Coach Mike was talking about it when we were getting our kayaks ready this morning---."

"Tim's dad and step-mom were they, they were killed."

Terry's pause was longer that time, then I heard him exhale slowly over the sound of splashing water, "Mattie… that's… that's unreal… I… Oh my god."

Thinking back years earlier, I recalled when the joker had returned to Gotham, still in the safe confines of his drug-induced court-ordered coma. Terry and I had to do an assignment for class using the internet to look up local news articles using a randomly selected word. We had picked "playing cards" and ended up with a front page story on the Clown Prince of Crime's controversial return to Arkham Asylum.

Then, it had been just a story.

Now, it was reality.

I was about to tell him that I wanted him to come to the Manor, but there was a knock on my bedroom door. "Terry, I have to go…"

"Okay… wait… call me later… I have a dentist appointment at ten-thirty but after that I'll be home."

"All right," I said as Mom stepped into my room, "Don't flip over in the water."

He ended the call after saying, "Yeah, FedEx still hasn't dropped off my new gills… jerks…"

After putting my phone down on the bed next to me, I looked at her, "Hey."

"Hey, kiddo… want to come downstairs?"

"For the talk," I stated.

She nodded. When I asked what it was, she replied, "Well… it's about a few things… Come on, we'll go down in the elevator."

Rather than meet in the study, we found them in the den. Dad and Nathan sat together on a small leather sofa while Alfred had taken and arm chair next to them. Mom walked in first and sat across form Dad on the other sofa, patting the empty spot next to her while looking at me.

"What's going on?" I asked, staying on my feet.

"Come in and sit, kitten," Dad nodded slightly.

"I prefer not to," I countered.

"Mattie, come on," Mom insisted.

After a silent moment, I relented, sitting next to her, "Where's Dick?"

"He had to go home to rest," Dad answered. He looked to Mom before looking at my little brother, setting an arm behind him to rub his shoulders. When I had headed upstairs to be alone, Nathan had been running around the house with Ace chasing after him, a smile on both of their faces. Now he looked as if he was about to cry.

Dad cleared his throat, "After last night, I've decided it's no longer safe enough in Gotham for this family, even with being as careful as we have been. On top of all of the other events over the last few months, the death of Tim's parents, people who have lived next to us for so many years… The only thing to do that would ensure your safety is to leave. To go as far away as possible."

I went to speak, but Mom put a hand on my knee.

He continued, "I've made arrangements at the most secure place I know of… you two will be leaving this afternoon, along with Ethan… and Cassandra and Tim, if all goes as planned."

Nathan beat me to the question, "What about you and Mom? And Alfred?"

"We're going to stay here, to help."

I finally cut in, "Cassandra and Tim, that doesn't make sense, who's going to stop the Joker if Tim leaves?"

Dad drew a long breath before answering, "After last night… it's best if Tim takes some time to himself… he was… is very upset about what's happened to his father and Dana…"

"Shouldn't that make him want to get the Joker even more?"

Dad flinched at that and replied evenly, "He does… but he knows that his judgment would be unfit, he is too emotionally involved at this point… and thankfully he knows enough to take a step back as opposed to charging forward when he's most likely to make a mistake."

Without thinking, I asked, "If Tim has stepped down, then who is going to be Batman?"

Nathan looked up at my father, "Yeah, who?"

Just as I realized what my father's answer was going to be, he replied, "I will… at least until Tim feels he is ready to come back."

Nathan exclaimed with a grin, "No way!"

I looked to my mother and Alfred, both of them doing their best to hide what they were actually feeling. Rising to my feet, I said, "I'm not leaving then. I want to help."

"Mattie," my father's voice rose slightly.

Interrupting, I continued, "No… you can't do this alone! He killed Huntress, tried to kill Jim and Maureen… shot Dick and Will… and Cass and---."

"Mattie, that's---," he tried to interject but I talked over top of him.

"He killed all of those people in the restaurant… the planetarium! All of those Old Joke crimes, the doctor they kidnapped…" I watched as my father rose to his feet but kept yelling at him anyway, "You can't do this alone!"

"That is enough!" he bellowed.

_The real him._

With angry looks from Mom and Alfred as well as the worry that had conquered the smile on my brother's face, Dad calmed himself before continuing, "Mattie… I have been fighting him for the better part of thirty years. I have brought him down alone time and time again… and I will bring him down again… one last time."

The look on his face urged me to be quiet.

He added, "You are going to the Watchtower with Nathan… and Ethan. Dick is going to talk to Tim and Cassandra…"

"The Watchtower?" Nathan finally piped up.

Dad sat down again, looking down at him, "It's… where the Justice League has its headquarters."

"Like... Superman? And Green Lantern… and Flash?!" the smile returned to Nathan's face.

"Among others… I have rooms prepared… you'll leave this afternoon so you need to pack up as many clothes and things you want to bring with you."

I asked, using a civil tone, "How long are we going to be there?"

Dad shook his head but Mom answered, "We don't know, kiddo… might be a few days, a few weeks…"

"What about school?" I asked, "What about my friends, and Terry?"

"What about Ace?" Nathan joined in.

"You'll still be responsible for your studies, Miss Mattie… as will you, Master Nathan." It had been the first Alfred had said since I walked in the room. He then finished, "I will see to it personally, Master Bruce."

"You're going?" Dad asked.

"In the best interest of the children, sir, yes… It would be unfair for their education suffer as a result of this… endeavor of yours."

"Then it's settled," Dad nodded curtly before looking down at Nathan, "And Ace can come…" he then raised his eyes to me, "Taffy as well… Coltrane, I'm afraid has to stay."

Nathan smiled at that but I didn't.

Meeting over. Case closed. The end.

Mom had offered to help me pack but I told her I could do it myself. She then left with Nathan to give him a hand upstairs in his room while Dad and Alfred walked together down the main ground floor corridor. I followed them, doing my best to overhear their muted conversation as they made their way into the study.

They were going into the Cave.

I waited a few minutes before heading into the study as well, just reaching for the hands of the grandfather clock when I heard my mother clear her throat. Spinning around, I saw her leaning against the doorframe, "Unless you'd like to be on the receiving end of the bat-roar again, I suggest you head upstairs and start packing."

"But Mom--."

She shook her head as she walked over to me, "I know… no one likes Dad's decision… including him…"

"Then why doesn't he ask for help from the League, not just having them hide us?"

"It's complicated…" she started.

"Uncomplicate it."

She smirked before answering, "He doesn't like to ask for help… and… this is something he feels he has to do. To try and make up for everything bad that has happened. Now…"

"And then," I finished.

She hugged me, setting her chin on top of my head before responding, "You are wise beyond your years, child."

After being escorted upstairs, I locked myself in my bedroom and proceeded to collapse onto my bed. Eye level with my cell phone, I grabbed it and dialed terry again. Unfortunately, after four rings, his voicemail picked up, "Hey, it's Terry, leave it to beaver."

Following the tone, I said, "Terry, it's me… I… my family is leaving today… Dad doesn't think it's safe anymore… he's taking us… just away from here… Please, call me when you get this."

Once I had hung up, I texted him, CALL ME!, but received no immediate response.

Taffy leapt down from her window bed and slowly walked over in order to jump up beside me. After rubbing her cheeks against my face, I reached out and traced my hand down her back and tail, "Wonder if cats land on their feet in outer space."

Reluctantly, I began packing up clothes, mostly leggings and tee shirts, a few hoodies and jeans and half of a dozen pair of sneakers. I had gone through Dad's breakdown of the Watchtower a few times and apparently their training and exercise bay put that of the Cave's to shame. Given that it had been nearly five months of the Joker eluding capture, who knew how long we were going to be stuck in the space station circling Earth.

Given my dreams of becoming a hero myself, it should have been exciting that I was going to be teleported to the home of the universe's greatest. Nathan was certainly excited enough for the both of us. I had never personally met any other heroes than those that walked the streets of Gotham, no doubt because my father had wanted it that way. I had hundreds of collected newspaper clippings of the Justice League and their victories and here I was going to be moving in with them.

And I couldn't have cared less.

My place was in Gotham, alongside Dad, not hiding in his former quarters waiting for word to come from the monitor womb that the Joker was in custody.

And that my father was okay.

As I began searching under my bed for cat toys to bring for Taffy, there my phone lit up and I grabbed, expecting to Terry's text message, but it had been my mother's asking if me to put my luggage in the elevator car to send it down to the Cave. With a sigh, I replied I was almost done packing, which save for Taffy and a few personal items was true.

I waited to move everything to the elevator until after I had packed my laptop away and filled my backpack with books, movies, drawing pads and my small stuffed horse that I had had since I was little. After some questing, I found a few of taffy's toys, her small fleece bed and her rarely used cat carrier. Once I had cleaned it, I bagged up her litter box and litter, leaving only her food and bowls from downstairs.

Although it hadn't seemed like it, it had been more than two hours since my father had turned our world upside down. With it approaching noon, I quickly filled the elevator car with my belongings and those of my feline companion. Before I could use my voice code to send it directly to the Cave, it closed and began traveling down on its own.

It was then I realized I had forgotten to pack my back-up inhalers.

After retrieving them from my bathroom, I jogged downstairs and headed back towards the study. I was surprised to see Dad as getting up from his desk as I walked in and I explained, "Forgot something."

"Good girl," he remarked as he recognized my inhaler packaging. Dad walked up in front of me before continuing, "I'm sorry, Mattie…"

"For what, yelling at me? I started it."

"No… I'm sorry that it had to come to this, that I couldn't keep you and Nathan safe here…"

The look in his eyes said he was genuinely sorry.

The least I could do was forgive him.

As he leaned over, I hugged him while kissing his cheek, "It's okay, Dad." When we broke apart, I added, "Besides… I want to see how many secret identities I can figure out."

A smile crept over his lips, "That's my girl… Well, take that down and put it in your bags… I'll bring Alfred's belongings down and then we'll get ready to go."

"What, no lunch?"

He had started for the door but paused to say, 'Do you want to teleport for the first time on a full stomach?" It wasn't until after I smiled at him that Dad nodded and walked out of the room.

Before unlocking the entrance, I walked over to Dad's desk, wanting to borrow the picture of him and Mom that he kept. It was a black and white candid photograph form a party long before I was born. I liked it because they were on a dance floor, smiling at one another rather than at the camera. It was like they were sharing a secret.

When I turned to leave, my eyes caught on a document on the center of the desk, my father's signature as well as Dick's standing out in black ink. As I stepped closer, I realized it had was dated that day and proceeded read part of it aloud to myself, "I, Bruce Thomas Wayne, understand the full import of this declaration and am emotionally and mentally competent to make this declaration. It is my intention that the primary witness, Richard John Grayson, is morally bound to follow its mandate, fully recognizing the responsibility it will entail…"

I flipped back through the packet to the beginning and upon reading the cover page, I realized I had no choice but to find a way to get back to Gotham after being sent into outer space.

_The Last Will and Testament of Bruce Thomas Wayne._

^V^

The second time Dick had showed up that morning, I let him in.

When he had dropped by at eight in the morning, I had been on the phone with Dana's father, assuring him that I would take care of all of the necessary arrangements. When he offered to help pay, I had turned him down, feeling it was my obligation to pay for the murder of hi daughter somehow.

Regrettably, I wouldn't be able to have services until the following week given that both my father and Dana's remains weren't going to be released for at least seven days. Thankfully, my father had already secured their plots, high atop the crest of Gotham's cemetery. It actually wasn't that far from the mausoleum that we had just laid Helena to rest in. His will had left everything to Dana and myself, and since she had not formed a living will, what had been under her name would be held in probate until claimed by her parents.

I would have been furious over such trivialities had I not been completely dead inside.

The ride home from Bristol had been done in a complete trance. I had vaguely recalled making it to the Sat-Cave changing before calling for Cassandra to join me there. I should have called Barbara to tell her I was okay, but I didn't really want to lie to her. After seeing the bodies of my father and Dana, embracing one another in a bathroom stall, dead at the hands of my greatest enemy, I was anything but okay.

I had snapped out of it when Cass's face had appeared before me, her hands cupping my face before her lips locked onto mine.

She had whispered only once that she was sorry.

Returning to the townhouse, our cover story to the police out front had been a late night out on the town celebrating life as a young, happy couple. As I had at the crime scene earlier, I managed to play it straight as they woefully informed me my father and step-mother were dead. Cass had played along, gripping my arm in shock while I tried to deny it, stammering that they had been out to dinner for their anniversary.

The sergeant had sighed, "I'm sorry son… But I would like for you to come with me---."

"For what?"

"We need you to make positive identification---."

"They're not dead, they're fine," I had countered, wishing it were true.

It was then he showed me a plastic evidence bag containing my father's bloodied wallet.

From there it had been a pre-dawn trip to the morgue, looking at the pale, still faces that were revealed with a mortuary worker pulled back the sterile sheet. When they had been at the restaurant, they had been splattered with blood, their clothing stained and pocked from numerous gunshot wounds.

As they rested on the gurneys, they looked like they had just been sleeping… forever.

While leaving the morgue, the commissioner herself had been waiting outside to offer her condolences as well as to inform me that Cassandra and I would be under protective house arrest. At the restaurant, I had vaguely recalled her suggesting the Joker was after the friends and family of the late Jim Gordon Sr., which unfortunately had been fairly true. Given that I was related to victims of the Smith & Wollensky massacre, there was no doubt that I was also a prime target.

If she only knew…

After being escorted home, I had followed Cassandra up into the house where we promptly collapsed onto the couch in the den. Although we had spent the last few hours together, I hadn't said more than a dozen words to her, let alone what had transpired in the Cave. When her hand found mine, I had gently squeezed it before telling her, "I gave the cowl back to Bruce."

Naturally, she remained silent.

As I replayed going to talk to Bruce, I realized how true my confession to him had been. If I had been given the opportunity, I wouldn't hesitate to fall to the Joker's level and end his life as painfully as possible. I closed with, "I don't know what was worse, actually telling him that I quit…. Or seeing the look on his face when I said it… Like I was breaking his heart… I failed him."

Cass shifted beside me, taking my jaw in her hand before turning my head to face her, "You are not a failure. You are a hero."

"Some hero," I whispered.

"He wouldn't give you the cowl if he thought you weren't worthy," she commented, nearly echoing Bruce's argument from earlier, "He chose you. He chose wisely."

A shadow of a smile came to my lips as she quote my favorite Indiana Jones movie. But the world renowned fictional archaeologist had been able to save his father from certain doom where I had not.

_I love you, son._

My smile faded as my lips had begun to tremble. Tears I had staunched earlier had returned in full force and Cass was there waiting, wrapping her arms around me as if she would never let go.

_I love you, Dana._

Although we rarely said it, more often in a joke rather than with sincerity, I had found myself uttering through the sobs, "I love you, Cass."

"I love you, too."

Just as the first rays of sunlight surfaced, I had found myself haunted by the beginning of a new day rather than being energized by it. Cass had fallen asleep on the couch and after I had untangled myself, I laid her down and covered her with an afghan. Upon retreating to my study, I looked out front to see the unmarked and the two patrol cars still out front.

Protect and serve.

Somehow, I began going through the motions of contacting what little relatives were left on the Drake family tree before going about looking up and getting in touch with Dana's family. It had been just after I ended a call with Dana's father that the police had called the house.

"Mr. Drake, there's a Dick Grayson here to see you?"

Cass had sleepily appeared in the study, kissing the top of my head before looking out the window. I had informed the officer that I didn't want anyone coming in at the time before hanging up. Dick had promptly sent a barrage of calls to the house and cell but I quickly forwarded them to voicemail. He always had the best of intentions but I just couldn't look him in the eye, not after promising him that I would put an end to the Joker's reign.

In the two hours that lapsed between his first and second visit, I had showered, attempted to eat, unplugged the phone, punched a wall, cried, beat a sand bag until it burst, threw up, showered again and finally collapsed onto my bed. Although my body had craved sleep, I knew the second my eyes closed I would be haunted by the images of Dad and Dana.

"Tim… Dick's back," Cass said softly.

I lifted my head from the bed, finding her and Robbie standing at the bedroom door. After pushing myself up, I had nodded, "Tell them to let him in."

Given that it was the middle of the day, by then he certainly had to have heard of my actions in the Cave from the night before. I expected him to be angry to quit a role that wasn't meant for quitters but as I came down the stairs, he looked up at me from where he stood in the atrium, a sad look on his face.

"Tim… I'm so sorry, man."

Nodding, I approached him, accepting his one-armed embrace, "Thanks."

After a moment, he let go and asked, "Has Bruce called you?"

I shrugged, "I don't know, I turned off the phones."

Dick nodded, "Good call… Well, I went up there this morning, and of course, he has a plan… he wants to send you and Cass to the Watchtower with the kids… he needs to know whoever is up there watching them knows what the hell they're doing."

Looking at his bandaged arm, I asked, "Why aren't you going?"

"I can't… I… I just can't. But Ethan is… I'm still trying to convince Babs but you know her…"

I looked to Cass and she nodded, "It's a good plan."

"So he's bringing the League in on it?"

Dick paused, shifting his weight before answering, "Not exactly…"

"What do you mean?"

"He's taking the mantle… if something goes down, then the League will obviously have to step in, but until then, Bruce wants to be on his own. He thinks he should have stepped in at the beginning… sees this as a feud between the two of them, one we were never meant to be caught in the middle of."

It took me a moment to understand what Dick had said. Somehow, the thought of Bruce becoming Batman again hadn't even registered in my mind. Then again, stepping down from being Batman hadn't been a possibility for me either. That was until there wasn't any other choice, for either of us….

"He's waiting on you to teleport to the Watchtower… If you want, I have the beast mobile, we can pack up some luggage and I'll drive you up."

I couldn't remember nodding. Nor could I recall packing suitcases of clothing, briefcases of paperwork and small personal things like the remnants of Cass' Ring Pop box, pictures of Dad and Dana and my treasured down pillow. I might have said yes to Cass suggesting sending Robbie to stay at the Clocktower with his best friend Frank but I couldn't recount doing so.

Somehow, I told the police I was moving into Wayne Manor to stay with friends and that they were more than welcome to follow us up, but they would have to stay at the end of the driveway.

Before I knew it, I was standing in the Cave amongst the Family, everyone a caught up in a nervous excitement. Bruce and Dick were teleporting suitcases in groups and I vaguely wondered who was receiving them on the other end. I felt Cass' hand take hold of mine.

"Dad… I want Ace to stay here," Nathan's voice stood out. I found him standing beside his kneeling father, the massive dog laying at his young master's feet. "I have Tim and Cass to keep me safe…" he looked over at us briefly before continuing, "You need Ace more than I do."

"Okay," Bruce nodded before rising, kissing Nathan's head on the way to his feet.

Suddenly feeling more conscious of my surroundings, I let go of Cass and stepped forward, "Bruce, can I talk to you for a second?"

He nodded, looking back to Dick, "Why don't you start taking everyone up…" and then to Cass, "Cassandra, want to take Ethan?"

She nodded before approaching Selina who had been holding onto the toddler. Barbara, who had remained home, had no doubt already made her heartfelt farewell.

Taking a few steps away from the group, I paused in front of him, "Bruce… I… I was wrong. I can face him without killing him… I can do it, I know I can… I will bring him down… You don't have to do this, you shouldn't have to."

Bruce stared down at me for a moment before responding, "I know… You could face him.. Bring him down without crossing the line. But _you_ don't have to. _You_ shouldn't have to." When I looked back at him in confusion, "What I told Dick was true. This is my fight, not yours, you inherited it as a burden when I gave you the cowl, something I would never wish upon you. And because I let it, you've lost an ally, you've nearly lost dear friends and… now your father and Dana. These burdens are not yours, they are mine. And mine alone."

My father's smiling face flashed in the back of my mind.

_I love you, son._

Bruce finished quietly, "It's not your fault, and you can't blame yourself… like I said last night… you are better than that… you are better than me."

We returned just in time to see Cassandra, Alfred and Ethan disappear into a flash of bright white light. Selina stepped in next with Mattie and Nathan, each looking nervous. Bruce stepped forward, tapping on the control panel before smiling at his family, "Next stop… Earth's orbit." when Nathan asked if he was joining them, Bruce looked back at me, "I'll be right up after you… with Tim."

The hum of electricity and a bright flash shocked the Cave and like that, they were gone.

I followed him over and joined him in the teleported, wary given that I hadn't used it in months. Bruce resubmitted the commands, waited for clearance from above and then took a deep breath. He looked down at Ace as he lay on the cold, stone floor and commanded, "Paltz.. Blieb."

I watched the dog as he settled into a down stay before closing my eyes, hoping that when they opened my molecules would be in the right order.

Thankfully they were.

The teleportation bay was alive with activity as the League welcomed its guests. I spotted Nathan running around with a grin on his face while Mattie looked over the faces of the League members standing about the room. Superman, Wonder Woman, Flash and even J'onn had made an appearance, their combined forces would make moving luggage fairly easy.

Selina had turned to face us, smiling at Bruce as he stepped off of the platform. I slowly followed his lead, uncertain as to whether or not my colleagues new of the recent changes in the Family. Seeking out Cass, I spotted her handing off a crying Ethan to his father, who did his best to make the small child forget his sudden relocation. Dick looked to me and joked, "Guess he's not too keen on traveling faster than the speed of light."

"No one is," I commented.

Superman had stepped forward in full regalia, offering his hand. I shook it weakly as he spoke, "Tim, you have mine, and the entire League's, sincerest condolences. If there is anything you need… please, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you," I replied. Like Dick, Clark also wanted nothing but the best for everyone.

Laughter caught our attention and I nearly smiled to see that Wally had already been conned into carrying Nathan around on his shoulders, resulting in a blur of red and squeals. We watched on as Bruce stepped forward, cleared his throat. The blur came to screeching halt, launching Nathan into the air and landing safely in his father's arms. Hair sticking straight up from the static electricity, Nathan slipped down to the floor and landed on his back, "That was totally wicked!"

Although he was in full uniform and Bruce wasn't, Wally gulped audibly and stuttered, "Hey-hey Bruce… long time no see." After an icy glare intensified on him, Wally then added, "Sorry… he… I made sure he said please, first."

^V^

It felt odd, standing amongst not only my family, but my former colleagues as well.

Although they were fairly capable of disguising their internal thoughts, it wasn't a jump to assume that each and every one of them were uncertain of my intentions, thus a cause for grave concern. I had contacted J'onn shortly after hearing of the Drakes and he had promised to offer little to no details to the remainder of the League. To them, I simply wanted to be sure my Family was safe given the lengths the Joker was taking.

Given the number of people and the quantity of luggage, they had obviously been startled to see just how big my Family had grown.

My retirement had never been officially announced but shortly after Clark had invited Tim into the League, they had been quick to note the differences. Tim had remarked that the only one to confront him directly about it had been Diana and at that she had only wanted to make sure I was okay.

I decided that since they were going to be hosting my children, the least I could do was say thank you properly… especially since Alfred was present.

Having saved my son from becoming to fast of friends with Wally, I helped him to his feet before properly making a statement, "I'd like to thank you all, for helping on such short notice… J'onn, especially."

He nodded, doing his best to hide his concern with a smile. For his assistance, I had rewarded him by telling him my plan.

"You already know Alfred… And my wife, Selina," I gestured to each of them before proceeding, "As well as Tim and Cassandra… and Dick." As their eyes fell on his left arm bandaged securely to his chest, concern crossed their faces. "Alfred, Tim and Cassandra will be staying… their joint efforts will hopefully keep the remaining guests in line."

I ushered the kids in front of me, "My children, Mattie and Nathan," and then looked to Dick, "As well as my grandson, Ethan."

Although they had each known for years of my endeavors in parenthood, the powerful figures before us stood in shock at my children, each of which had timidly waved and said a quiet greeting. It was one thing to idolize heroes in the news and on posters, but in real life it was too intimidating. Something I needed to correct in both of them, given that met humans were nothing to fear, only to respect… if they had earned it.

"I can not say how long they will be staying… I only ask you treat them as you would treat me---."

Wally, naturally, spoke up, "What, with unquestioned fear and authority?"

Mattie stepped forward, "Yeah. Something like that." When I touched her shoulder, she looked back at me with a wink.

I sighed before proceeding, "Only that you would protect them and care for them as if they were your family. And know that if you don't, I'll find out."

"So… that's a no on taking the little man on warp speed piggy back rides?"

Nodding, I confirmed, "That's correct."

Nathan came to his new friend's defense, "I said please, Dad."

"I don't care, it's not safe."

"But, Dad---."

"That's enough, tiger."

Someone snorted at that and I was quick to match it to Clark. Too bad I couldn't afford a second broken hand.

With the help of the world's finest heroes, we moved everything into two adjacent rooms, leaving Tim and Cass to move into his room which had interestingly been right across from my old on. As Nathan jumped up and down on the bed, Dick had finally settled Ethan down enough to let him walk around the open room, hanging on with one hand on the back of his son's tee shirt just in case.

Mattie, who had been silent save for her quip at Wally, approached me as I set her heavy book bag down on a twin bed, "Can I make phone calls from here?"

"Yes… you can call me… Mom… the Clocktower."

"What about Terry?"

I shook my head, "Afraid not, kitten."

She sat on the bed and sighed, "I called him before we left but he never called me back… if the Joker knows who we are… he knows who Terry is… what if something happened to him?"

Kneeling in front of her, I set my hands on either side of her hips, "Nothing is going to happen to Terry. I promise."

"Pinkie promise," she smiled, her eyes growing bright and glassy.

I raised a pinkie and hooked it with hers before kissing her forehead. As I stood, I spotted Diana and Clark at the doorway. I told Mattie to go to the far wall and press the large black button on the wall. After she carefully crossed the room, I watched with a smile as she did so, automatically pulling back the drapes to reveal a massive picture window overlooking the Earth.

"No way," she whispered.

Her brother showed less restraint and leapt off of the bed and raced over to join her, "No way!"

"Got a moment, Bruce" I heard Clark ask.

"Not many," I replied while turning to face him. I looked back at Mattie, Nathan as well as Dick and Ethan as they stared out the window. Without a word, I stepped out of the bedroom and into the corridor.

He crossed his arms over his chest before saying, "We want to go with you… to help."

I raised my splinted hand and said, "I believe we've already discussed this."

"Bruce…" he paused, letting his arms fall to his sides, "You can't do this alone."

"Everyone keeps saying that… and yet, it's not true."

Diana stepped forward, "Your arrogance is going to get you killed."

"No, Princess, in fact my arrogance is what has kept me alive all these years… and I expect it will keep me alive in the years to come." When they didn't say anything, I finished, "Besides, I'm far from alone."

"What are you talking about?" Clark asked, "Dick is grievously injured, as well as Cassandra apparently… the only one of you still standing is Tim and he is hanging on by a thread from the looks of it."

"Which is exactly why I brought them here. The only place I know they will be safe."

After a moment, Clark excused himself to talk with Tim while Diana's eyes stopped burrowing hole in my forehead and directed their gaze in the room. I looked as well, nearly smirking at the awe and wonderment the view had brought everyone.

"Your children are beautiful."

"Thank you," I replied.

"You're finally happy… I can tell… why would you be willing to throw it all away on one man?" she looked to me, surprisingly playing the Good Cop.

I set my jaw before responding, "One man will never come between me and my Family."

"You are an arrogant fool if you believe that," she said softly.

"And why's that?"

"Because you're letting Batman come between you and your family, whether you want to admit it or not." She glanced inward once more before about facing and taking flight down the hall.

Alone, I returned to the bedroom, eager to return to the Cave and yet not ready to leave the kids behind. I joined them at the windows, touching Selina's elbow as she held her palms against the two foot thick glass. When she looked up at me, I nodded and she sighed.

Mattie glanced over as well, asking, "Are you leaving already?"

"Afraid so," I replied.

Nathan's excitement faded once more, his eyes finally turning away from the view. Sleina crouched down and wrapped her arms around him just as his lower lip began quivering. "It's okay, we'll call later before you go to bed… maybe you can use the big monitor…"

He whispered, "Like the one in the Cave?"

"Yep," she replied, rubbing his back before kissing both of his cheeks.

As she turned her attention to Mattie, I leaned over and picked Nathan up, his tears starting to well over his cheeks, "It's all right, tiger… it's only for a few days. Besides… there's lots of other heroes to meet still…"

"I only want you, Dad," he breathed into my ear.

I rubbed his back, "I know… you'll be back home before you know it."

He cried into my shoulder for a minute before drawing a ragged breath, "Don't forget to feed Ace."

"I won't."

When I looked up, Selina was holding Ethan, making him laugh as she kissed and tickled his neck. Dick nodded towards me and I looked down to see Mattie, oddly stoic.

"Best behavior, young lady."

"I will."

"No beating up reserve members."

She smiled, "I won't."

"Or permanent members."

"… I'll try not to."

"And watch over your little brother."

"Okay," she finally stepped forward, wrapping her arms around my waist as I set a hand on the back of her head and the other on her shoulder, "I love you, Dad."

"I love you, too, kitten."

I was then handed and over-excited toddler who was quick to start bouncing in my arms, "Pah-pah-pah-pah!"

"I hear you… guess I should have warned them you were the most mischievous one of all." Ethan conked his head forward on mine, grabbing onto my shirt collar before resuming his bouncing. I kissed his cheek before setting him down next to Mattie, watching as he quickly ran over to her and grabbed at her belt.

I looked down at the youngest members of the Family, trying to imagine my life without them.

"Master Bruce?"

I nodded and found Alfred standing at the door. Glancing at Dick, I nodded before looking back at the kids, "Have fun… be safe."

"We will, Dad," Mattie smiled while Nathan began crying again.

When I made a move to approach him, Alfred stepped forward , "Go, sir, I'll tend to the young master." He was in capable hands, Alfred was an expert in comforting sad little boys.

I nodded, stopping him briefly to say something but the words wouldn't come.

Alfred nodded, "I will see you soon, Master Bruce. In one piece, I hope."

"As do I, old friend."

Nathan's bawling drew him away and I had to force myself to walk out of the room and into the hallway with Dick and Selina. I wanted to speak with Tim once more, but wasn't sure if it would make a difference. In silence, we returned to the teleportation bay, surprised to see it devoid of life given how active it had been thirty minutes earlier.

"Last chance to stay," I looked to Selina and Dick.

He shook his head while Selina replied with red eyes, "Just get us out of here before I go running back to them."

Stepping into the portal, I prompted the return trip home, telling myself I was doing the right thing. That the plan would work. That everything was going to be okay.

Upon reemerging in the Cave, I smiled to see Ace hadn't moved an inch in the time we had been gone. I gave him his release command and he trotted up, quickly sniffing his charge on my hands. Stroking the dog's broad head, I said, "Well, hard part's over."

"That was the hard part?" Dick asked.

I nodded as I turned to face him, "Of course it was,"

"Not hunting down and apprehending the Joker?" he questioned me further. When he went unanswered, he sighed, "Well, I best get back, tell Barbara in person that everything went okay."

"… I'll go with you."

We both looked to Selina, silently asking her why.

"If this house is going to be empty… I don't want to be here."

Given how emotionally strong she was, it was difficult to see Selina unnerved. I nodded and offered, "It's a good idea… Dick, why don't you---."

"Get the subway car ready… Which is only the fifth lamest errand you've ever sent me on so you could spend time alone with Catwoman," he grumbled as he walked away.

When we were alone, I said, "I'm not sure if I'll have time to come to the Clocktower tonight."

Selina nodded as she looked up at me, "Fine…"

As I had while portraying Matches Malone to help bring down the arsonist Icarus, I pulled my wedding band off and offered it to her, "This may be it."

After a moment of forced breathing, she took the ring from me as she responded, "I'm not going to say goodbye to you, Bruce."

"How about… Adios."

She laughed, a tear slipping over her cheek, "No…"

"Au revoir? Vaarewel? Aloha?" I asked while wrapping my arms around her.

"Shut up," she finally gave into tears while simultaneously laughing into my chest. When I went to release her, Selina stood up on her toes, locking her lips with mine. I could feel them tremble and unlike earlier that morning, it been because of fear and not ecstasy.

Withdrawing, I whispered, "It's going to be over soon… and everything is going to be okay."

"Liar," she managed. I went to say that she was a thief but she cut me off, "Stop talking, Bruce."

When I broke from the second kiss, I responded, "Yes, dear."

^V^


	16. Now And Then: XVI

Title: Now And Then: XVI

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The Joker wanted him. The Joker got him.

Rating: T

Infringement: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Again, try not to think the worst…

^V^

When Dick had arrived at the townhouse to retrieve us, I had lied to Tim.

I had said it was a good plan.

Although I knew Dick hadn't told me it in its entirety, I was certain what I hadn't been told would soon fall into place. He had been adamant that it was the worst one Bruce had ever come up with. Before Tim had descended the stairs, I had countered, "If it ends the way it should, then it is a good plan."

"If," Dick had sighed, "There are way too many variables, too many things that can go wrong. Very, very wrong," his eyes narrowed as he went silent.

I had agreed, "If they go wrong, then it will be a catalyst, not a hurdle."

Dick had paused before admitting, "You and Bruce think way too much alike."

Before we could continue, Tim had appeared at the top of the stairs, slowly making his way down to us. It hadn't taken much to convince him to leave for the Watchtower but I was quick to realize that he was operating on basic human functions. Where I had managed to get a bit of sleep that morning, he had been notifying family members about the tragedy from the night before.

Following patrols, when he had finally contacted me, I hadn't any time in getting to him. I only offered support and comfort, not false hopes that everything was going to be all right. He had blamed himself for not being there to stop the Joker, or even to put an end to his killing spree before hand. Although I had not blamed him on any level, I had understood the reasoning behind his self-hatred.

The What If that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

No doubt the others would be hasty in trying to convince him otherwise, that he wouldn't have been able to stop what had happened had he been there that night. But just as Tim had not been able to predict the consequences of skipping dinner with Jack and Dana, nor could anyone else know the final outcome had he been present. Or rather we.

Thankfully, my injuries from encountering the Joker were far from serious. In a normal person, the repercussions of a stab wound to the arm, two bullets clipping flesh and a moderate concussion from a third bullet bouncing off a skull would indeed be serious. The one thing I was thankful for in my raising was that my father had taught me to feel no pain and to ignore even the most grievous of injuries.

Just like Bruce.

When Tim had first taken the cowl, I had been shot in the abdomen by a drug lord named Hades. He had promptly ordered me to go to the Free Clinic to have Leslie treat me rather than stay and finish the fight. A compress bandage would have been sufficient, at least until Hades and the rest of his thugs were secure. It had been the first time he had yelled at me as Batman and regrettably, it hadn't been the last.

I had known he was looking out for my best interest, but as Cassandra, not as Batgirl. It had taken years for me to differentiate the two beings, taking substantially from how Bruce walked the line between his identities. Even still, I had begun to take things personally as Batgirl while becoming aggressive and starting quarrels as Cassandra

I liked it better when I was just one person.

_I'm not telling you to back down… as Batman…_

_I'm not telling you I won't as Cassandra…_

Then again, if I had never heeded Barbara and Bruce's request to develop my human side, I never would have jumped in the shower with him after that romp through the sewers. I never would have kissed Tim in the Clocktower or stole his swim trunks after he had dragged me fully clothed into the pool. I never would have babysat an infant named Mattie, nor her brother Nathan.

I would never had accepted a marriage proposal involving a Magic Eight ball.

Batman may have been Bruce's primary identity once upon a time, but after a while, it had become equal with his life as a father and husband and not long after it had become dormant. In a blink of an eye, compared to his timeline, I had gone mute, teenaged girl fleeing from her assassin father to part-time receptionist and part-time vigilante.

As both Batgirl and Cassandra, I was gravely worried for timothy Jackson Drake's well being, mentally and emotionally.

Since the Sat-Cave, he shown signs of numerous stages of grief, but not in any production from of progression. When I had first started living with Barbara, she had seen to it that I had a a proper education in the art of human psychology as opposed to my previous instructions on just human behavior. The stages of grief came in the natural order of denial, guilt, anger, depression, relief, reconstruction and acceptance. Tim had clearly shown anger, guilt and depression, all within less than twenty-four hours.

It had taken less than two hours to get settled in, another two wasted trying to get Tim to eat or at least sleep. At ten after four, I watched him from the other side of the Watchtower quarters, sitting and literally staring off into space, I wondered if he would ever reach the remaining four stages.

"Tim?" I called out softly.

He didn't show any sign that he had heard me. I waited to repeat myself until I had crossed the room, taking a seat to his left on couch. Finally, dead blue eyes looked over at me and he asked, "Cass?"

"I'm here," I replied, taking his hand into mine. On the rare occasion that we held hands, he rubbed his thumb over my knuckles or at least gently squeezed my fingers. It felt odd holding onto cold, limp digits.

When he started to speak, his mouth closed and his head dropped. I moved closer, setting my chin on his broad shoulder in order to kiss his cheek, of which yielded no response.

I waited.

I waited thirty minutes.

"Bruce was wrong," Tim finally made a weak attempt at a smile.

"Wrong about what?"

He sighed softly, "He told me that everything that's happened was because of him… the burdens he had left for me, weighing on the cowl that I was forced to inherit. Worries that I never should have had to endure… but… I needed to carry them. Batman is a stand against injustice, against all that is wrong in the world… He is only made stronger by travesties of human immorality… Batman is nothing if there is no drive to right the wrong… to make amends…" Tim looked up at me finally, his eyes intensely focused, "To take vengeance."

I waited.

I waited thirty seconds.

"He was wrong, Cass," Tim took to his feet, moving quickly for the door, "I have to go back, I have to---."

I delivered a blow to the back of his head, sending him to the floor in a heap. Thankfully, I reached out just in time to catch him before he landed face first into the marble floor. After dragging him onto the bed, I checked his vitals before leaning in to kiss his brow, "Bruce is never wrong."

Shutting off the lights, I locked him in the quarters and crossed the hall. Allowing Tim to return to Gotham was not part of the plan, and regrettably, I had been the only one capable of seeing to it that he stayed put. Surely Alfred could have tainted a meal or a cup of coffee with a potent tranquilizer but that would have involved getting Tim to actually eat or drink something.

Waiting for him to reach the reconstruction stage of his grieving process and taking advantage of his momentary distraction was far easier… at least for him.

After knocking softly, Alfred was quick to answer, "Ms. Cassandra?"

"Hi… Tim is finally asleep."

He nodded, "The poor lad… well I will see to it that no one disturbs him."

"Thanks… How are they?"

Alfred looked back over his shoulder, "Master Nathan has settled although he is quite upset… Master Ethan has decided to cope with his first space orbit with a nap…"

"And Mattie?"

He sighed, "She longs to explore the Watchtower as opposed to remaining in these quarters with her younger brother."

I nodded before saying, "I'm going to walk around for a bit.. Maybe see if the training bay is free, I can come kidnap her."

"I am certain she would be most delighted, Ms. Cassandra."

After another nod, I proceeded down the hall, looking back once to see Alfred still watching me. Returning my eyes to the front, I casually made it to the end of the corridor, pretending to take glances through observation windows and checking labels on titanium doors. Turning right at the end of the hall, I checked back again to see he had returned to the confines of Bruce's former quarters.

Coast was clear.

Until I nearly ran into Superman.

Pausing, I looked up to see him offer a warm smile, "Cassandra… right?"

I had met him a number of times but not being a natural conversationalist, I had opted to observe and keep things simple. He shook my hand on one occasion and I had been thankful that he had the restraint not to crush my bones. Having caught me strolling about, he inquired as to what I was up to and I replied, "Tim finally fell asleep… figure I'd give him some alone time."

"Good for him… I can only imagine what he's going through."

I nodded, not sure what else to say.

He was quick to sense it and offered, "Well, If you need anything at all, you can use any of the intercom panels you find to contact the monitor womb. That's where J'onn and I will be fore the remainder of the evening.

"Okay."

Again, as I continued down the hall, I felt eyes on me, although by the time I turned to check, he was already gone.

As I navigated back to the teleportation bay, I retrieved my portable comm. link and contacted Bruce, He answered immediately with a gruff, "Progress?"

"Tim is secure… I'm on my way."

"Good… I need you to go to the Clocktower."

Confused, I replied, "But that's where everyone else is."

"That's where I need you to be."

"But… coming back to help you, not hide in the Clocktower."

"You're not going to be hiding, Cassandra, I need you to keep Selina there. By whatever means necessary."

Reaching the teleportation bay, I paused to retrieve an identification card that Bruce had given me prior to leaving the Cave. I swiped it and the display accepted it, detailing the identity of the card holder to be Batman. Stepping, I selected the Bat-Cave out of the pre-determined list of possible locations and waited to initiate clearance.

"Keep her in the Clocktower…. Easier to keep her in the Watchtower."

"I know, but it wasn't a viable option."

"Why not?" I asked, knowing he would most likely ignore my question.

There was a pause on the other end of the line and then, "If this doesn't go as planned, if something happens… If she's two hundred miles away… she'll kill me."

If it didn't go as planned, if something happened, he would be dead anyway.

He reminded me to use the altered suit, with the additional protective plates that were tailored to my injuries and that I wasn't to leave the Clocktower until he said so.

"What if you can't find him?"

"I don't plan on finding him, he'll find me."

After he cut the connection, I turned the comm. link off and stepped onto the platform.

Maybe Bruce was wrong.

Maybe Dick was right.

Maybe this was the worst plan ever.

^V^

Many of psychiatrists and psychologist had tried treating the Joker, many of whom had promptly quit, some had even voluntarily enrolled themselves for a psych evaluation and one was rumored to have killed himself.

One had fallen head over heels in love with him.

Dr. Harleen Francis Quinzel was once a promising young, abnormal psychologist who had the misfortune of taking a staff position at Arkham Asylum. It was difficult to say if her deeply routed knowledge of psychoses had paved the way for her to fall madly in love with one of the most murderous men on the face of the planet. Only Harley had been able to see through the grins and chaotic laughter, through the incalculable deaths and misery he had brought to Gotham and beyond.

And despite all the horrible deeds Harley had been an accomplice too, there was still a mentally sound person lying somewhere behind the white and black makeup and the oversized guns. On far more than one occasion, she had questioned the Joker's judgment as he carried out his killing sprees for which she had been punished for given his unpredictable temper. She had even gone as far as leaving the Joker behind in order to form new alliances, even if they were with other villains it was still better than being with him.

He had even formed schemes in plans that put her in direct harm. On one occasion, she had shot him in the shoulder in order to make sure he understood just how discontent she had been. She was the decoy, the tool, the target, the bull's eye and the fall girl.

But like all women in love, she couldn't resist going back to him, especially when he put on the charm.

When she had escaped from her cell after the Joker had been transported back to Arkham, Dick had told me that she looked like a frail child. She had been so lost and weak without her puddin' to egg her on, leaving her to her own devices. Little had we known that she had put the next few years to use, planning an escape from the institution that involved a whole score of inoperative and incarcerated Rogues.

Our encounters with Harley over the last few months had been limited to the first night on the police headquarters with Huntress in addition to the attack on Jim and Maureen followed by the incident at the Free Clinic. The Joker had obviously been relying heavily on his own skills as well as those of his former henchman, BoBo, who was still in the hospital recovering from injuries endured during his apprehension.

He was lucky they were able to put his jaw and his elbow back together.

The key to getting the Joker was getting to Harley first.

Simple enough, and if given the opportunity, Tim and Dick certainly would have. With her kept out of sight for nearly four months, the chance to use her against her beau had not been an option.

"Hey, Selina made dinner… want to take a break?"

I looked over my shoulder to see Dick in the doorway, wearing black leggings and a frown. For some reason, he was bare-chested save for the bandages keeping his arm immobilized. Look down, I spotted both Robbie and Frank staring up at him patiently.

Before I could question it, he looked down and explained, "I already ate… that Mexican chicken , rice and asparagus dish… bright yellow jalapeño-lemon sauce all over my shirt… these fine gentlemen tried to help clean me up."

"Mans' best friend," I smirked as he walked over, taking a careful seat on the workstation counter. After turning to face him, I nodded, "Should probably eat something… going to be a long night."

"As opposed to the last few months?"

"Well… that too… I was thinking that it would be long because Ethan is gone."

"Not gone… just in a galaxy far, far away," Dick smirked.

Shaking my head, I replied while fighting back a smile, "Please don't make light of this…"

He shrugged, "Sorry, my only coping mechanism is humor."

"Fine… but no Star Wars jokes…" he opened his mouth while raising his good hand in a Vulcan salute, "Or Star Trek."

I remained stationary, my eyes falling to the monitors before me. Since Dick and Selina had left the Cave, Bruce had been alone, only contacting me once to set a meeting time before he headed to the city. The time display put it at nearly seven-thirty, having given him all afternoon and evening to finish altering the Bat-suit for his first night out.

Dick's hand reached for mine, "I'll hold down the fort… Go… Before I have a third helping."

Before could leave, he leaned in and kissed me, breaking away slightly to ask if I could bring him back a lime-creamsicle.

"Only for you."

Saying good-bye to Ethan earlier that day had been the single hardest thing I had to face since he had come into our lives. Sure he had stayed away for a night or two but never had I been uncertain as to when I would see him again. I hadn't even been able to put clothes away in his nursery, leaving them in a basket in the laundry room.

Though I hadn't eaten all day, I wasn't eager to dine with Selina. It's not that her infamous Mexican dish wasn't going to be delightful, it was more the topics of discussion that come up at the kitchen table. Bruce had made me promise not to tell her anything and I had all intentions of keeping said promise.

That was unless if his plan went wrong.

My role was as it had always been, keeping him as informed as possible throughout his quest for the Joker and Harley. Although I never felt it was enough, Bruce had once made it known to me that he had no idea how he had been able to function before the Oracle had existed. It was his way of saying thank you, far better then the "Well, you did a good job… but you could have done better" speech that Dick had grown up on.

I found Selina at the kitchen sink, rinsing a skillet slowly, her eyes not gauging her progress.

I wasn't the only mother in the Clocktower.

"Smells delicious," I announced myself, causing Selina to startle. When she looked to me, I continued, "Dick said he left me some."

Selina smirked and looked to the kitchen table, "I saved you some. He had no part in it."

As she shut the water off and dried the skillet, I navigated to the table and placed a napkin over my lap. Selina joined me at the table and as she sat down, I noticed she had put Bruce's wedding band on her necklace as it quietly hit the already present white gold pendant. Although I had spoken with her several times over the course of the afternoon, I hadn't spotted it.

"Did Mattie call back yet?" she asked.

I began slicing the chicken and asparagus and shook my head. Mattie had called a little after four to check in and had spent a good hour on the phone with her mother. Afterwards, Selina had a chance to talk to Nathan and Alfred before hanging up. I had asked how everyone had been and when she didn't report on Tim and Cass, Selina had explained that Tim was sleeping and Cass was touring the Watchtower, stretching her legs. With the promise of a call before going to bed, Selina was no doubt counting down the minutes until Mattie and Nathan were in pajamas and brushing their teeth in outer space.

After a moment, she asked if her husband had called.

Again, I shook my head, "Not yet… I know he had a few things to take care of in the Cave, wanted to make sure everything was ready before he headed out."

"About that… this plan of his…"

"Trust me, it's not that elaborate."

"This is my husband we're talking about, right?"

I smiled as I chewed perfectly cooked chicken, "Really, he just plans on flushing out the East End until he finds someone who will give him an answer so he can find the Joker."

"What makes him think he's still there?"

I set my fork down before answering her, "A hunch. If he's trying to make this personal, if he really wants to get at the heart of it, he knows where in this city Bruce is tied closest to."

"Crime Alley," she whispered to herself.

"Exactly… his visiting the Free Clinic instead of bombarding an ER or a walk-in clinic somewhere suggests he was at least passing through the area. And it's awfully hard to ignore him and an injured Harley walking the streets. Someone had to have seen something. And even when they went into the city to the restaurant, they returned to the East End to get rid of their getaway car."

Selina was silent for a moment before she said, "I heard Tim and Bruce talking in the Cave before they teleported up. Tim offered to come back but Bruce told him no."

Dick had also overheard the same conversation and had told me about it earlier in the afternoon. I cleared my throat, wishing it was because of the tangy sauce and not the anxiety that was building inside me, "I know it's hard, knowing he's out there alone… but he's right. The Joker isn't going to stop until Bruce faces him. Even if he doesn't know who Tim and Cassandra really are, he could still have come after me, you and the kids… Bruce didn't want this to go any further than it already has."

She smiled sadly, her fingers reaching up to touch the ring resting on her sternum, "You and Alfred… only sane people in this damn Family."

"And you," I offered.

With no other subject that was approachable, she excused herself after telling me to leave the dishes for her to take care of. I ate about half of my plate, covered it and left it in the refrigerator for Dick. Retrieving two creamsicles, one raspberry and one lime, I returned to take over monitor duty.

Dick was sitting in the lone chair of the room, gently opening and closing his left hand. It took me a moment to realize he had removed it from the sling although he had kept it bandaged to his chest. When I cleared my throat, he looked up and smiled, "Just getting a head start so I can shower.

"Dick, it has literally been a week… you weren't supposed to remove it until---."

"I know, two weeks… but I need to wash this armpit," he gestures to under his left arm, "… like it's my job."

"You re-break anything, you're driving yourself to the hospital."

He rose from the chair and took his treat from my extended hand, "Duly noted."

As he turned to leave, my central monitor changed suddenly from a digital map of the East End that marked out the locations Tim had already visited. Instead of outlined streets and buildings, Bruce's face and the expansive darkness of the Cave behind him came into view, "Barbara."

"And me," Dick said as he stepped behind me.

"And me," a fourth voice spoke as Cassandra came into sight behind Bruce.

I opened my mouth to ask what she was doing there instead of the Watchtower, but Bruce spoke first, "We need her."

"She's concussed Bruce."

"As defense, not offense," Bruce continued as if he hadn't heard me.

"I'm repeating myself because obviously the connection is bad, Cassandra is concussed, Bruce. She was shot in the head less than forty-eight hours ago, she needs to be resting not defending anyone."

"Barbara, it's not up for discussion," he fired back, sitting up in the chair so that I could see the body armor he would soon be wearing under a black Kevlar tunic.

I went to argue my point again but Cass nodded, "He's right. Need everyone we can get."

"And Tim was okay with this?" I demanded. Bruce and Cass looked at one another and I was quick to decipher their silent gaze, "He doesn't know? You must have him tied up with Wonder Woman's lasso in the commissary freezer!"

Cass shook her head but I heard Dick's respond, "He's sleeping. He'll find out when he wakes up… but knows he has to stay for the children and Alfred."

I glared up at Dick, "You knew about this?"

"Sort of," he offered.

And to think, I saved him part of my dinner, and got him a creamsicle… Turning my eyes back to the monitor, I sighed forcibly upon deciding that arguing over being left in the dark was pointless. Nearly all of Bruce's so-called plans over the years had excluded others from knowing each step or even the end result. Showing my discontent with a glare, I asked, "Fine… now what?"

Bruce narrowed his eyes for a moment before proceeding, "We'll be leaving here shortly. Cassandra will be going to the Clocktower in the event he decides to come after you. The patrol cars out front are no match for him if that's what he wants."

I wanted to say that concussed and one armed crime fighters were also no match, but somehow I held my tongue, "And you?"

"I'll be going to GCPD to confront Kelsey. I'll update you then head into the East End."

Where he would no doubt remain out of contact unless he found something.

After I had closed the connection, I had turned to yell at Dick for keeping me out of the loop, but he and his creamsicle had disappeared. Cursing him under my breath, I checked in on our good commissioner, first taking a look at a shadow of her office computer. She was hard at work returning e-mails, slowly making her way through a full inbox. When her activity suddenly stopped a while later, I assumed that Bruce had arrived.

Alone with my thoughts, I nearly took a moment to go and talk to Dick but the secure phone rang and I was quick to answer it, expecting Mattie's voice.

I had been wrong.

The night before last, Cass had barely made it to the Free Clinic in time intercept the Joker and Harley, allowing us to confirm that Harley had been injured. Regrettably, Cass had been injured herself in the encounter. A chance encounter that had started off another tragic weekend.

But chance had apparently struck again, in the same place.

I listened carefully as Dr. Bryce told me over the phone that Harley had a bad allergic reaction to the antibiotics she had been given and had come alone to the Free Clinic for further treatment.

Heart pumping in my chest, I opened the comm. link and asked, "Boss, you there?"

^V^

.

Everyone was convinced that my efforts would only result in unspeakable tragedy, but in my defense, that was no different than facing off with the Joker any other time. Tim was right to suggest that the Joker was beginning to falter given the loss of his muscle for hire and the fact that Harley was on the mend. Whatever funds he had left, he had yet to put them to significant use or else half of Gotham would be running the streets in terror.

Then again, he wasn't after Gotham this time.

After closing the connection with Barbara, I rose from the chair and headed to the costume vault. Ace, who had been lying next to the chair all afternoon, padded after me. I had already donned my body armor, boots and leggings, hoping to mentally begin preparing for the night ahead in stages. The first had been securing the Family, the second had been bidding farewell to Selina and the third had been finalizing the alterations on the suit.

It had been six, long years and it was foolish to think I would be able to instantly put my mind back in the night.

Cassandra, who was still in civilian clothes, followed me into the vault while watching me silently. Her gaze only intensified as I double-checked the contents of the modified utility belt for the second time. Without looking to her, I spoke coldly, "I recommend you suit up us well."

"I can help."

"You will be," I countered as I decided to fit in another pack of batarangs by removing the triage kit. If needed, I could use part of my cape as tourniquet and the blow dart rod as a chest tube and would rather have more weapons than painkillers in pre-measured vials

"No… I can help look for him. I don't want to wait for him." When I looked up at her, she had come to stand before me, defiance in her dark eyes. Cassandra put a hand over her heart and said, "Loyalty. Secrecy… Courage."

"Cassandra, I---."

She shook her head, dropping her hand to her side, "You can tell everyone else that… not me."

Cassandra had entered my life when I had given up on humanity. Although she had become a priceless addition to the Family, she had remained a personal beacon for whenever I lost my faith. When I had stepped down from the mantle, she had been the first I had informed, giving her the task of preparing Tim for his penultimate placement as Batman. There was no other had trusted at the time, no other I felt would understand. Barbara had taken care of her introduction into society following No Man's Land simply because she felt that Cassandra was already far too like me.

If she, a child raised from birth to be the world's perfect assassin, a child who had suffered unspeakable evil at the hands of her own father, could become a noble soldier in the war on crime… then there was no reason to give up on anyone or anything.

"Fine."

A smirk flashed at the corners of her mouth, "Fine what?"

"Fine… you can help," I grunted while turning away.

After donning the tunic, gloves, cape and my belt, I exited the costume vault with the cowl hanging between my shoulders. Where I had taken a cumulative hour to don the suit, Cassandra had taken less than two minutes, stepping out onto the platform just as I had taken a seat at the computer. She joined me, her mask firmly in place.

Bringing up the detailed map Tim had prepared of the East End, I showed her the locations she was to investigate and then forwarded them to her cycle's computer and navigation system. I then showed her where I intended to be after leaving the office of Erin Kelsey.

"Alone to see Commissioner?"

I picked up on her abbreviated speech pattern, indicating her excitement, or fear. Nodding, I rose to my feet, "Yes. I won't be long."

Batgirl nodded curtly before turning towards the stairs, leaping down the twelve steps to the vehicle platform. I watched on as she jumped on the cycle, bringing all four cylinders to life before tearing off. With her eagerness and willingness, I had a slightly better chance of surviving my fast approaching encounter with the Joker.

Standing alone before the computer, I nearly convinced myself to contact the Watchtower to say goodnight to Mattie and Nathan but then decided against it. I had spoken with them mid-afternoon and all had seemed well, given the circumstances. Mattie had been adamant that she needed her own room and Nathan had been quick to volunteer bunking with "my friend Flash". I had turned down both requests and when they started to complain, I threatened them having to share a bed. End of discussion.

I had not spoken with Selina since she had left the Cave and for that I was thankful. The thought of her remaining in the city, along with Dick and Barbara, had been unsettling. Certainly the Manor Clocktower was easier for me to keep an eye on as opposed to the Manor but it would have been ideal had they joined the rest of the Family at the Watchtower.

Two hundred miles up and out of the reach of the Joker.

I took a deep breath and pulled the cowl into place.

Without waiting for the lenses to adjust, I descended the stairs two at a time, crossed the metal platform holding the Mobile and jumped in. Ace had trotted after me, the big dog effortlessly leaping into the passenger's seat as if he had been doing so every day of his life. The seat registered my presence and demanded the vocal activation code of which I growled, "Omega, psi, chi, phi, upsilon, tau, sigma, rho, pi, omicron, xi, nu, mu, lambda, kappa, iota, theta, eta, zeta, epsilon, delta, gamma, beta, alpha."

The computer hesitated then acknowledged, "Override command accepted."

The dash console illuminated itself a neon blue, showing the indication gauges, control panel buttons and LCD monitor in the darkness of the car. I hesitated before reaching, then remembered Tim had modified it two years earlier to touch button shifting on the steering wheel. So many changes in the last few years and yet it all felt very familiar.

Panting brought my gaze to the right and I found myself eye level with my new partner and his glossy, white incisors and canines. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to use them.

The ride into Gotham was less then ten minutes with only the sound of the dog and police scanner keeping me company. I had expected Barbara to instantly contact me the second the I had suited up and activated the comm. link, but there had been nothing. It was as I turned off the Expressway to enter Tri-Corner that she came over the console's display, "Long time no see, boss…"

"What's Batgirl's location?"

"The Village, there was a jumper."

"Status," I barked.

Barbara nodded, "Taken care of, listen, before things get too crazy, do you want me to get Seli---."

I cut her off, "Have her tour the rest of the Village before entering the East End. I'll contact you after meeting Kelsey."

"She's not coming here?" she hesitated before looking away, "Fine."

I told myself I didn't want to see Selina because it would only serve as a further distraction from the work ahead. In reality, I wasn't sure if I would be able to face her wearing the guise I had given up. For myself, for the children, for her.

Parking in a long-neglected alley, I stepped out of the car, preparing to race the two blocks to headquarters, climbing fire escapes and leaping rooftops in a pattern I had memorized decades earlier. As the dog attempted to join me, I gave him his stay command to which I had added, "Strictly backup."

Reaching the last hurdle, a grapple ascension up five flights to the commissioner's office, I took a moment to center myself and to catch my breath. Focusing in with the lenses, I toggled the controls on the belt until I could easily see through her lit window. Shadows moved along the far right wall and then settled. I then activated the laser audio surveillance device, aiming it directly into the window to hear nothing save for the door closing. When there was no movement for forty-five seconds, I fired the grapple and hit the retraction button.

I forgot how good it felt to fly.

Grabbing the window ledge, I pulled myself up, pressing my back to the exterior of the building before glancing inside. Still vacant, I set the grapple down and carefully lifted the window in order to enter the office. Taking a position between the door and a tall filing cabinet, I waited eight minutes for Kelsey return with her coffee.

I was kind enough to let her set her coffee down on her desk before clearing my throat.

"I swear to God, I'm going to shoot you one of these…" her words failed her as I stepped forward. I waited silently for her to continue. After shaking her head, she asked, "Where is he? What's happened to him?"

Ignoring her, I said, "I need you to pull your officers out of the East End."

She took a few steps towards me, pointing a finger at me, "Did you not hear me? Where the hell is he? And for that matter, where the hell have you been?"

I stepped forward as well, towering over her petite frame, "I don't think you heard me, commissioner?"

She held her ground, still as bold as when she had been instated prior to my retirement, "Oh, I heard you, I'm just not so sure about taking orders from someone whom I presumed to be dead for the last six years!"

If it had been Jim Gordon standing before me, I would have felt obligated to explain.

Since it wasn't, I continued, "I need access to the East End without having to worry about police interference."

"Interference?" she spat back, "My people are out there trying to catch him, just like yours are."

I stomached the guilt that flared up thinking that there weren't many of my people left standing. Holding the scowl on my face, I urged, "I'm looking out for your people, just like mine."

"I'm not pulling them out. The DA's wife works at the same clinic that the Joker and Harley visited two nights ago. We've got cars patrolling ever slum and ghetto run in that borough---."

Barbara's voice emerged in my ear, "Boss, you there?"

Kelsey's then finished, "--- that something you can deal with?"

"Yes," answered both of them.

Barbara's voice came quickly, "I know you're still at the GCPD, but Dr. Bryce just called, she says Harley is back at the clinic… alone."

The commissioner looked up at me as I walked by her saying, "You need to have whatever cars you have stationed at the Free Clinic to fall back."

"I'm not---."

I spun around to face her, "I'm not asking. I'll be there in eight minutes, there better not be any cops there." Ignoring any further protest from Kelsey, I grabbed the grapple gun and leapt out of the window

As I descended, Barbra explained the situation, "She came in about ten minutes ago, in civilian clothes, refused to tell her name to reception and only wanted to be see by Bryce, Apparently she had a reaction to the antibiotics and when she tried to have the Joker bring her again, he said he was too busy so she came alone… Bryce put her in the back room, IV drip for fluids and meds, minor sedation just to relax her… she said Harley was genuinely sick, high fever, the wound is ghastly to look at…"

Of the two, Harley was the easiest to apprehend and have a limited conversation, that was if she was alone. Whenever he intervened, she was quick to side with him, even if you had just managed to break through the shell of insanity to the woman that was hiding beneath. Given the small window of opportunity, I had to get to the Free Clinic as soon as possible.

Landing on the pavement beside the Mobile, I winced as the shock rode up my legs before responding, "I've told Kelsey to pull her officers off the Free Clinic, but she didn't seem willing to comply."

Barbara hesitated before informing me, "Taken care of. I had a security alarm go off at the detention center down the street. Should buy you thirty minutes or so. Don't waste them."

Hitting the ignition, I looked to Ace as he still sat stoically in the passenger's seat, and then to the monitor, "I won't."

I was there in seven minutes, opting to pull around back while sacrificing the safety of concealing the car a block away. Blasting through the back entrance, I found Dr. Bryce standing outside of a room I had spent far too many nights in. She did a double take of me but the urgency in my body language lead her to say, "She's resting… she is very ill… I'm not sure if she can leave here tonight."

"I don't plan on her going anywhere," I replied quietly.

When I reached for the door handle, I felt a small hand grab my forearm, "I know the relationship you had with Leslie… I know… she wouldn't want you to interrogate a sick woman." After a silent moment of staring at one another, she let go and stepped aside, "You have five minutes."

Having received another unnecessary time constraint, I flicked my wrist and stepped into the room. Harley was indeed an ill woman, fitfully sleeping on the gurney. Her vitals were elevated including her temperature which dangerously high at one-hundred and three degrees. Stepping silently, I approached the rail of her bed, looking over the labels of the IV bags. Lactated Wringer's solution, tigecycline as well as a dexamethasone solution to treat the allergic reaction.

The best of care for one of Gotham's worst citizens.

"Harley." When there was no response, I repeated, "Harley, I can tell from your EEG that you are awake."

Her bloodshot eyes fluttered open, "B-man… is that you?"

"Where is he?"

She slowly sat up in bed, a smiling breaking her lips, "It's really you…"

"Where is he?" I asked again, fighting to keep my tone even.

Harley eyes were watery, and it was impossible to differentiate it between emotion or the fever that was raging her system. She reached a hand out and grabbed mine, "Puddin's going to be so happy…"

"Where is he?"

The smile faded as she let go of me, "He wouldn't bring me… because he said he had to get ready…. Didn't have time to---."

"Get ready for what?" I growled.

"To pay his respects. That's all he kept muttering to himself," she admitted as she slumped back down. I waited for her to settle, "I don't know to who… but he was getting all fancied up…"

Suddenly, I knew who. I knew where. I knew why.

And I would be damned if I was going to let him desecrate that place anymore than it already had been… not on my father's birthday.

When I spun to leave, Harley called out weakly, "Who's a girl gotta shoot to get an OJ around here?"

^V^

My first conscious thought was that my head was throbbing.

My haunted subconscious had decided it was an appropriate time to relive the last four months in a vicious, sweat inducing nightmare. Silent, restful sleep had evolved into facing each and every failure and life lost since the Joker and Harley had escaped. Helena, who had been a lead role in my dreams since her death, had seemingly acted as a guide, reminding me that nothing was my fault.

"Hey, kid," she had teased, "Remember me?"

"Of course, Helena… I'll never forget you… what happened to you…" my dream self had drifted off.

"Yeah, but you shouldn't dwell on the bad times… the good times are far better to dream of." Everything had been dark save for the cross glowing around her neck. I had followed it as I had approached her. Helena's smile had lit up as well as she joked, "Hey, kid, my eyes are up here."

"Helena… I've failed, you… Dad and Dana… Bruce."

"We all fail Bruce. None of us can live up to him. Especially me."

I had shook my head, "No, that's not true… Helena, he---."

She had shushed me by pressing a gloved finger on my lips, "I'm going to stop you right there. I was always an outsider, I was always the one that didn't play by the rules. And that's why I'm dead, Tim. That's why Jason is dead. Why couldn't play by the rules."

I had stared up at her, light coming from above, casting shadows on her bare, beautiful face.

Her hand had cupped my cheek as she had continued, "But you, Tim… You've always followed the rules, the codes, the vows… You have never and will never let him down. Even by quitting at this most pinnacle moment… He still respects you… he still loves you."

… _I love you, son…_

"My father---," I had begun to say.

"A tragic twist of fate, Tim… One that we all must endure in order to bare the title of hero." She had leaned forward, kissing my brow, "Now, do as you were asked. Keep the little ones safe. And keep that girl of yours out of trouble."

My eyes shot open to reveal the brightly lit sleeping quarters.

"Cass?" I called out softly. Sitting up in bed, I glanced around until I found a clock on the wall, trying to convince my pained skull that it was nearly nine in the evening. Seeing how I hadn't eaten or drank anything in two days, I was severely dehydrated and my blood sugar was nonexistent. Combined with the mental, emotional and physical exhaustion, I had probably passed out shortly after arriving to the Watchtower.

No, that wasn't right…

I stepped into the bathroom, hitting the lights before reaching the counter. Turning no the cold water, I leaned over to splash my face, hoping to wash away the fog. It was as a I cupped water and ran it through my chaotic hair that I felt the massive bump on the back of my head.

… _Batman is nothing if there is no drive to right the wrong, make amends, to take vengeance…_

… _I have to go back…_

"Cass!" I called out again, leaving the bathroom and making my way into the corridor suddenly, not caring that I was barefoot. When I called her name into the hallway, the door across from mine opened before Alfred stepped out to join me.

"Master Tim, I'm afraid I may must insist you keep your voice down, I've just settled Masters Nathan and Ethan into bed."

My mind stuttered as I instinctively asked, "Where's Mattie?"

"Besting Mr. West in the entertainment bay at a video game."

After drawing a ragged breath, I inquired, "Is Cass with them?"

"Ms. Cassandra was touring the facility, sir, she wanted to give you time to rest. Miss Mattie inquired if she could join Mr. West's activities before going to bed."

"Of course she did," I growled to myself. I gingerly touched the back of my head before turning to show him before leaving him to grab the corridor communication panel. Entering the security code, I accessed the visual display and growled to see only Mattie and Wally in addition to a number of young faces that had been recently added the League. Firestorm III laughed as Wally fought with his controller while Donna Troy cheered Mattie on.

"When was the last time you saw Cass?"

"Around four this afternoon, sir. Do you think---."

I raced by him, heading down the spacious corridors at a dead run. Various reserve league members, in full uniform, called out as I flew by them, pushing anyone in my way to the ground. As I rounded the turn to take the final stretch to the teleportation bay, I skidded to a stop before colliding with J'onn's broad, green chest.

"Timothy," was all he said.

"Out of my way, J'onn," I growled, knowing he was more than capable of reading my thoughts, even if he chose not to use his telepathic gift. "Cass has gone back to---."

He nodded, "Yes, I am aware. I have spoken with Oracle and she has confirmed that she is all right, aiding Batman in his search. No combat allowed."

"I don't care what Oracle said, she shouldn't be doing anything other then resting, J'onn! She was shot in the head two days ago, she isn't fit to help Bruce!"

Without looking, I knew we were being looked over by those who had been brave enough to follow me down the corridor. J'onn glanced up at them, offering a fierce glare before the scamper of feet and hushed voices retreated. He then said, "Join me in the monitor womb."

It hadn't been a question.

He chose to walk beside me, passing by the teleportation bay in order to reach the communication hub of the Watchtower. Superman was present as well, offering a soft smile as he greeted, "Tim."

"I'm sorry, I know you both are trying to be nice, but I don't have time for that."

"Yes, you do," Superman insisted.

…_You're better than me…_

Trying to ignore the eerie feel of an intervention, I stepped forward, pausing just as J'onn continued by to take his seat before the massive control panel. Superman then stepped forward, "Tim, we've been maintaining contact with Oracle… they've made some progress, Harley returned to the clinic after having a drug related allergic reaction. Bat… Bruce has already spoken with her---."

"What did she say?" I asked hastily.

He hesitated, a pained look doing little to impact his perfect face, "We don't know. Oracle has only affirmed that everything is okay so far but nothing new has happened."

I felt partial relief, knowing it wouldn't be complete until the Joker was back in the coma he so rightfully deserved. Running a hand through my damp hair, I asked, "Can we bring up a link to Oracle?"

"Tim…" Superman began again, "I think you should rest. There's nothing you can do from here… might as well take advantage of some time to yourself."

"Time to myself?" I snapped without regret, "To do what? Catch up with college buddies on Facebook? Read a thousand page George R. R Martin book? Maybe commiserate over the fact that when I get back to Earth I have to bury my father and his wife?!"

"Son, I know how you---."

"I'm not your son," I growled, "And you have no idea what I'm going through. There are two men in my life that do and they are in Gotham City, doing my job for me!"

He didn't have anything to say to that.

I was about to force myself to apologize when three things happened.

First, Wally, dressed in his red leggings, a pair of flip flops and a white tee shirt, walked into the monitor womb. He instantly read the tension in the room and said, "Sorry, I didn't know there was already too much testosterone in here."

"No, Wally… it's fine," I said, but my tone suggested it was anything but.

"Good," he stepped up beside me and set a hand on my shoulder, "That girl has some mad melee skills on the PS3..."

"You should see her in real life melee," I found myself saying.

He rolled his eyes, "Well what do you expect, look at her poppa."

"Where is Mattie?" Superman asked.

"Oh, I was giving her a moment of privacy. She's in the bathroom so she could handle a, uh, lady emergency. Figured I would race up here, see how everything was before I go back to getting my ass handed to me by a thirteen year-old---."

"How long has she been in the bathroom?" I asked.

He shrugged, "I don't know, I hit the commissary, checked my e-mail, Twittered… changed my shirt because I spilled chicken wing dip on it, picked up a new Flash ring from my room---."

I grabbed him by the pristine white shirt, "How long?!"

"Ten… fifteen minutes… I don't know how long it takes a girl to change her---."

Superman flew out of the room, I spun to glare at Wally, sending enough of a chill to cause him to stammer, "Wow, what's going on?"

J'onn growled back to me, "She activated the teleportation chamber fifteen minutes ago… using a ghost card to bypass security and to deactivate monitor womb notification."

Wally tried to defend himself once more, "She said feminine hygiene terminology, how was I supposed to know she was going to make a run for it?"

"You didn't think to send Donna with her?"

"Dude, we're in outer space, she's a kid---."

I had to resist the strong urge to hit him, "She's not a kid, she's Batman's kid!"

The third thing happened after I had teleported to the Cave. I had arrived to find that Mattie and one of the cycles were already long gone and opted to rapidly suit up, ignoring Bruce's discarded clothes on the floor. As I raced to the third, remaining cycle, Oracle's voice came of the link.

No, Barbara's.

"She got away from Wally, I'm going after her," I growled, already bringing up the tracer on the bike Mattie had taken."

"Cass is looking for her…" While i wondered where Gotham's youngest and most rebellious vigilante was, Barbara continued, "Tim… it's Bruce."

^V^

Crime Alley.

Once upon a time, it was formerly known as Park Row and it had been the former sanctuary for the elite to wine and dine, basking in how wonderful life was. That was until one, tragic evening when the first family of Gotham took a very wrong turn, leaving them bleeding to death on the cold pavement, their little boy watching helplessly. He made a promise to rid the streets of Gotham of such evil, to use his suffering to help others.

Momma and pop-pop would have been so proud had they not been bones in coffins.

The little boy had grown up to be a big man, putting away hundreds of criminals, helping de-corrupt the police department and saving a few thousand lives, but in the end what had it cost him? The lives of allies and young protégés, his own health and well being, decades spent alone, not to mention the suffering and aguish he put upon those that stood beside him and were lucky enough to still be standing.

Hell, it had driven him insane, if you were to ask my professional opinion.

And yet, he had found himself a little family, a beautiful wife, two beautiful little children and a big backyard for them to life happily ever after in. Hell, he even had his childhood butler still hanging around to clean up after him, although I would have invested in some strapping French maids had I his net worth. But I was the one that had been there from the beginning. Not the wife, not the sidekicks, not the cops… I had always been there for him and yet he had decided to cast me away like a used hankie. Now, I wasn't always keen on manners, but I was certain that was no way to treat an old friend.

Speaking of which, "Harley?"

When she remained silent, I finally stepped out from looking over the myself in the full length mirror. It had taken quite the effort to conceal as many toys as I could in my sleeves and pockets. I had an important date that I certainly couldn't be late for, especially as a result of Harley's aloofness. I toured the apartment I had secured above the East End's tastiest diner. It certainly wasn't as well furnished as our previous residence but given that we no longer had to worry about BoBo and Doc, the smaller, simpler flat was perfect for Harley and I.

That and we had all the free curly cheese fries we could eat.

Given that it wasn't as skeevy as other parts of the East End, the patrol cars had barely been by in the last forty-eight hours. The other areas, where the hobos and the druggies littered the streets both alive and dead, were well manned by those in blue. In fact, I had to thank my bestest of friends for keeping the two block radius around Crime Alley as nice as it was. His money and efforts had turned it from the heart of evil to a passable slum. Of course, he held that particular street so near and dear to his heart.

Hopefully, if he showed up, I'd help him get his heart even nearer and dearer to it.

"Harley?!"

I found a white take out box from sitting on the countertop, which if given a good scrubbing might have made it back to being blue. I opened it to find it full of curly cheese fries and a pulled pork sandwich, both of which caused me to smile. Given the activities planned for the evening, I should have something to eat but I was just too excited. Deciding on half of the sandwich, I closed the box and reached for the paper napkins that had been sitting beside it.

The top one had been written on: Puddin', I went to see the Doc at the clinic again. I borrowed the Glock just in case. Dr. Pepper and cheesecake in the fridge XOXOXO Harls

"There better damn well be Dr. Pepper in the fridge," I growled lowly. Reaching for the handle, I retrieved a bottle, popped it open and took a sip of all twenty-three flavors.

I had been trying to get her to go to the Clinic by herself all afternoon but she was still such a child at times, not wanting to do things on her own, needing someone to hold her hand. So what if you had a high enough fever to hallucinate, you should be thankful considering so many had to use pharmaceuticals to achieve similar results. I had kept mumbling to myself as a means of ignoring her and finally it had worked.

Careful not to get anything on my new shirt, I had a light dinner while I watched a rerun of something about a family named Bluth. Given how sore my face was, I allowed myself to laugh once when the narrator had quipped, "While Gob was forced to send away someone he loved, George Sr. was forced to visit someone he had once tried to shove out of a moving car."

Refreshed, I returned to the sparsely furnished bedroom and donned my pressed jacket, adjusting the lapels as I looked myself over once more. It was a shame that the laundering efforts that the dry cleaner had died for were going to be ruined within the hour.

I had hoped that Harley would have been over dying of an untreated infection and allergic reaction by the time I left, but alas, she had not. I had no intentions of visiting her at the clinic, especially since it had been a bit too exciting my last trip. Thankfully, my nose hadn't been too broken and the swelling was minimal but my lips were still sore and cracked, making laughing and smiling painful.

Which was not a good thing in my line of work.

"Well, I suppose," I said to my reflection. On my way out, I grabbed the cheesecake, my very own utility belt, thanks to the late Italian Hot Mama, and headed off to fight a foe of my own.

The trek to Crime Alley was oddly quiet and uneventful. There weren't too many people on the streets after dark and if there were, they certainly didn't have toys nearly as big as mine. Given my collection, I had decided to go old school given the nature of my night's plans.

That was if anyone showed up.

Had BoBo still been at my side, or even if Harley had two arms instead of one, I might have spared the time and energy going through the predictable measures of attacking city officials or kidnapping a bus full of children. But when it came down to it, I was done fooling around, and there was no doubt in my mind that he was done playing, too. Not that the game was over, by any means…

The brisk walk did little to quell my excitement and I found myself nearly skipping the last block. Reaching my destination, I carefully eyeballed the area before setting the cheesecake on the sidewalk, adjusting it twice until it rested in the perfect spot.

And then I waited.

And waited.

Just as I had decided that it would be okay for me to cut a slice out of the cake with one of the Gerber daggers BoBo had picked up for me, I heard boot heels on damp pavement. Rising to my feet, I spotted the shadowy silhouette approaching me, not in a frenzied run but more or less a relaxed stride.

"Well, well, well, look what the---."

The taser hit me square in the forehead. Not the crap darts with wires that the ladies of Gotham were so found of firing but a modified and intensified version with only two prongs, already charged and ready to work their magic. An uncomfortable distraction for someone who had endured cumulative hours of electro-shock therapy, it probably would have made a grown man piss himself as he trembled on the ground.

Sore lips be damned, I laughed.

When the figure came under the light of the street lamp, my smile only grew, especially when he launched himself at me. I let him punch and chop and kick me, forcing me to take a step back with every blow, my laughter in hysterics even he slammed me face first into the brick exterior of a rancid townhouse.

That was when he made his first mistake, just like little boy black and blue had. The anger, the frustration, the hatred gets to be too much, it always made them err. They'd much rather beat me within an inch of my life before putting handcuffs on me.

"Oh Batsy, how I've missed you so!" I cackled wetly before spitting blood and the remnants of my right upper pre-molars.

He didn't say a word.

"I must say, I was expecting the little boy wonder---."

He broke my wrist while twisting it around my back, pinning it between my shoulder blades as the knife fell from my fingers.

I continued, "I never thought you'd get down off your mighty throne to pay your old friend a visit, even after all I did to invite you out---."

"All you did?!" he bellowed, flipping me around while he took my throat in his gloved hand, squeezing just hard enough not to crush my windpipe. "You killed the guards at Arkham! The hundreds of people at the Planetarium and the restaurant! You killed Huntress!"

The look of absolute rage in his white eyes suggested he was nearly at the point of breaking. I decided to push him over the edge by hoarsely whispering, "I'm pretty sure I killed more people than that…"

Keeping his right hand around my throat, he reached back with his left in order to punch my jaw off of my face, giving me a fraction of a window to get things rolling. I took one of the arrows from the Huntress' belt and stabbed it into to the top of his right hand. Batman may have been invincible, but Bruce Wayne had been sporting a splint on his hand for some time and given how many more times he had hit me with left and not the right, I had decided it wasn't a hoax.

Unlike that stupid ploy of him and his lovely lady splitting up. What a joke…

He held on, but loosened his hold just enough for me to let oxygen into my lungs to, allowing me to drive both of the blades in my the toes of my shoes into his knees. Bruce Wayne had also had knee replacements nearly six years ago, but even then he was supposed to manage his activity and moderate his exercise.

Free from the choke hold, I ducked as he tried to grab onto me once more, grabbing two handfuls of the razor tipped arrows from the quiver on my belt and driving them into the sides of his body armor, ripping upwards to his armpits. Mostly, shreds of material and loosened ceramic body armor tiles fell to the ground, as did a dozen bloodied arrows bearing bits of skin.

"Tickle, tickle, Batsy!" I called out as I barely missed the right cross destined for my temple. When I went to roll away, he had grabbed onto my ankle ripping back into his grasp. As I spun around to face him, I was ready for the blow to my abdomen, coughing while saying, "You're probably wondering about the cheesecake?" While I doubled over, his knee came up and repeated the blow to my stomach. I felt the sandwich and soda jostle about before I managed to ask, "You know, that restaurant I.. well, of course you know which one…"

His fist came down hard on my cheek and I felt it rip open as I fell to the ground after his boot heel kicked my knee out. Looking up at him with a bloody grin, I continued, "Well, they had that cheesecake, and you know what it's called?" As he stood over me, I noted he was favoring the left leg but more importantly, he was out of breath. I finally finished, "They call it the Tom Wayne Classic… chocolate mousse… then with vanilla mascarpone… Light and dark… Guess you're just like dear old dad."

"Not another word, clown," he growled.

The boy had done a good job impersonating the vocie, after all. He grabbed me by the hair and proceeded to drag me off of the sidewalk, building momentum for the epic face plant he planned for me. I managed to reach around him just in time to drag the cheesecake under his next footfall, causing him to slip given the amount of Tufoil oil I had dressing the bottom of the smooth metal tin. I took advantage of his misstep to rip out of the jacket, quickly fleeing up the nearest fire escape to safety.

His body armor weighed him down, limited his mobility, it was meant to keep him safe.

"Happy birthday, to you, happy birthday, to you," I began singing at the top of my lungs as I reached the roof of an apartment building. When he appeared as well, I concluded, "Happy Birthday, dear Thomas! Happy birthday---."

He cut me off, knocking me to the ground with a surprisingly simple and vicious roundhouse to the back of my head. I landed, coughed and then moaned, "--- to you."

"This ends now," he glared down at me.

"That it does… Inow it's just a matter of deciding who."

"Who?"

"Me or you?" I hesitated, doing my best not to smile. He went silent and I shook my head, "Well either I kill you or you kill me… and since you won't kill me, looks like I win."

His boot heel came down on my ribcage like a Roadrunner cartoon gone horribly wrong.

I hacked and then spoke between pants, "After I kill you, I'm thinking about retiring… get me a family… Harley though, she's done for… But you'll be dead, might as well take yours… That wife of yours is a real MILF!"

He went to smash his left boot down on my face but I caught it. And twisted it. Thanks to the stab wound I had already place and months of electronically stimulating my muscles, I had just enough strength in my upper body to break the knee in one fell crunch.

"Come now, I always have something up my sleeve, you know that better than anyone! Just so happens that this time, I've got killer guns… both literally and figuratively!" I laughed while staggering to my feet as he fell to his surviving knee, screaming in agony.

As he tried to get back up, I tsked him and promptly returned the roundhouse back to him, sending him crashing face first to the rooftop. I then unloaded enough knockout gas capsules to take down a Soviet soldier, in giggling as he coughed between his cries of pain. When he slowly rolled onto his back, his breaths coming in uneven pants, I stepped closer, crouching next to him. As a second though, I moved my foot, resting my weight on it after I planted it on the disjointed, bleeding thing that had once been the midsection of his leg.

That's when he really screamed.

I retrieved the .50 caliber Glock that I had used to gun down his boy and his boy's doppelganger in their cute little office and pressed it to the space between the white lenses of the cowl. "Now it's your turn to take a decade long snooze fest… if not longer."

He did nothing. He didn't struggle, he didn't beg for his life, he just laid there. Perhaps I had used too much knockout gas…

Oh well, I thought as I pulled the safety off and put my finger on the trigger.

Click.

Click.

I was going to kill Harley for taking the Glock that was loaded…

"I do apologize for this… build up all of the excitement and then capoot. But… I like to think of myself as a man who can think on his feet," I stood, putting even more weight on his leg before straddling him, leaning over him. I half expected him to stab me with a batarang but when he didn't, I whispered into his ear, "Let's see if old bats can still fly…"

He finally summoned the will to fight back, but unfortunately it had been far too late. Stepping to one side, I forced my arms underneath his struggling body, ignoring the pain as he slashed at my face and chest with a batarang. Batsy sliced open my eyelid and nearly took off a nipple before finally embedding the blade into my neck.

After shoving him off of the roof, I clapped, "The tuck could have been tighter on that dive but the landing was flawless!! Nines across the board!!"

Opting to take the stairs, I approached a very still figure as it sprawled uncomfortably on the pavement. Through the blood running out his mouth, his lips were moving. Moving in closer, I told him to speak up. With as much effort as he had left in him, he growled, "Packen."

"Packen? I think you may have hit your head there, Ba---."

I was no longer crouching over Batman but rather underneath a big hairy beast that was trying to rip my arm off. I went to grab anything from the utility belt that would help ward off the big, black dog but then found it wasn't there. As I was dragged about on the ground, I looked over to see Batman's limp hand fall to the ground, securely holding the belt.

Before biting the dog back, I laughed heartily, "Good one, Bats!"

^V^

When Bruce had cut the communication to the Oracom, I had decided that he could take his plan and shove it.

Contacting Batgirl, I told her to head to the Clinic to watch over Harley seeing how Dr. Bryce was adamant that she wasn't stable enough to be moved. With that taken care of, I proceeded to cut the bandages securing my arm to my chest, donned a bullet proof vest, button up shirt and leather jacket before running out of the apartment. When Selina caught me at the elevator, I activated the emergency shut down, essentially locking them in and everyone else out.

In doing so, the elevators had been powered down, forcing me to repel down to the ground floor. Given the screaming in my shoulder, I figured it was a post-op no-no, even if I used my right arm to hold the line. Reaching the garage, I disengaged the lockdown just long enough to have the doors open up. If I had to, I could have physically pried them open, I just had no desire to be coated head to toe in fast drying epoxy from the countermeasure system.

Departing in the Range Rover, I donned the comm. link headset I had already stored in the car, along with a utility belt. And my service weapon. I prayed that Bruce had everything under control and that I wouldn't have to mar my soul with another life taken by my hands. But I was willing to do so, for Bruce I would cross the line he had drawn for me so many years ago.

… _we don't kill, that is what separates us from them…_

Entering the East End, Barbara's voice screamed in my ear, "Dick!"

"I know, I know, but I couldn't let him do this alone, I'm sorry---."

"No," she cut in frantically, "Mattie left the Watchtower, she took a cycle into the City!"

My heart skipped five beats before I managed to reply, "Where is the cycle?"

"The East End! It's stationary, she's parked two blocks from the Clinic, Samuel and Bentley! You have to find her, Dick, you have---!" her voice had grown frantic with each word.

I interrupted her, trying to remain calm, "We'll find her. What's Bruce's twenty?"

She took a breath before answering, "Crime Alley."

Of course.

Running a red light, which lead to an unfortunate traffic mix-up in the intersection, I gunned the big vehicle down Reagan Avenue where I nearly hit a Mercedes that had been double parked. Righting the vehicle and ignoring angry honks, I sped down the mile long stretch of hazardous roadway towards my destination.

I may have turned my back on the plan, but Mattie had gone and thrown it out the window. Into outer space.

Toggling through the comm. link, I came upon Cass's line, "Mattie is back in the city, she just parked a cycle at the alley between Bentley and Samuel… secure Harley, five point restraints if you have to then go find her!"

"Got it."

I finally drew a breath for myself, wondering if any of us would see dawn.

My momentary distraction caused me to swerve to avoid hitting a black kitten trotting across the street. Steering into an oncoming car, I swerved hard to the left and into a fire hydrant. Thankfully, I had been only going forty five miles an hour, the seat belt jarring my broken shoulder just enough for me to scream unintelligibly for a full minute.

The alternative, had I not worn my belt, would have been soaring through the windshield and kissing pavement. I almost preferred road rash.

Given the borough's reputation, the car that I nearly collided with kept on driving as if nothing happened. I took a moment to mentally check over myself before securing the holster at my back and slinging the belt over my good shoulder. Finding my bearings, I realized I was three blocks from the actual Crime Alley but before I could begin the trek, I heard horrendous screaming and laughing.

"No," I whispered to myself before taking off.

Two blocks away, I heard only laughter.

One block away, a dog was barking and growling the laughter sounding forced and painful.

I rounded the corner and slowed momentarily tot take in the sight before me. The Joker was doing his best to get himself free from a massive black dog, a dog that my mind couldn't immediately place as being Ace. I ran towards him, not ready to take the gun from the holster at the small of my back.

Then I saw Bruce.

The Joker caught me in the corner of his eyes as he laughed, "Would you be so kind and help Uncle J get this fleabag off of him?"

"Fass!" I yelled out, not bothering to watch as the dog increased the aggression in the bite, blood turning his pearly whites pink. I ran to Bruce's side, trying to decide what counted as a primary injury given the amount of blood pooling in his cape. After making sure there was a pulse and passable breath sounds, I looked him over head to toe, nearly losing it at the sight of his leg.

The Joker called out, "Hey, Dickie, what happened to the dog when he went to the circus?"

I had just spotted the splattered cake on the ground when I turned to glance back at him, holding one of Helena's cross bow arrows up high above the dog. Quickly, I ordered to Ace, "Aus!" and the dog let go and ran to me just in time to miss the downward plunge of the arrow.

The Joker laughed anyway, "He stole the show!"

As he made it to his feet, I rose as well, standing firmly between him and Bruce. I found myself still torn between withdrawing bolos or the handgun, especially with Bruce's gurgling breaths from behind me encouraged both.

I chose the latter.

"Oh!" the Joker squealed in delight, "Now this is my kind of party. Cake, guns, cute little girls…"

Knowing it was a fatal error, I turned to look behind me, spotting a figure in black and purple nomex walking side by side with Batgirl. When their eyes spotted the gun in my hands, I suddenly felt guilt wash over me, the guilt of being weak, of nearly giving into the Joker. Thankfully, the body lying on the ground was an immediate distraction.

"Well, kids, it's been real but it is getting awfully late," the Joker faked a yawn as I faced him again. He had taken a few steps away, as if he were inching away to freedom. "And, if I'm not mistaken, you have to get dear old Dad home to bed… He doesn't look well…"

Batgirl walked by me, stride for stride with the Joker. He snickered nervously, "Didn't I shoot you already? Like three times?"

"Wasn't enough," she growled, closing in on him.

He turned to run away and collided face first with a broad chest, emblazoned with the Family crest. The nervous snickers turned to giggles as the Joker looked up at Tim's masked face, "_Now _you show up… punctuality isn't your strong point, kid… you always seem to show up after I've done my worst…"

White lenses narrowed down on the Joker's face before catching the still figure at my feet. Without Ace to distract the Joker, he took advantage of the momentary shift of focus and cackled, "Tragic… here's something to take the sting out of your latest failure!"

Tim threw himself back out of the stream of sulphuric acid, giving the Joker a chance to take off down the street. Batgirl went to pursue him, but Tim stopped her, "No. He's mine."

He then looked to me but before he could speak, I did, "Go, we'll take care of him."

Once Tim was off in hot pursuit, I turned back to Bruce where both Mattie and Ace were woefully sitting. Knowing I had wasted enough time already, I ordered, "Cass, run back to the Free Clinic and get an ambulance."

"What do I say?"

… _No matter what, stick to the plan. It will work. Tim will come back, he'll hunt down the Joker and he'll do the right thing… Whether I live or not, stick to the plan. Either way, it'll be over, for good. That's a promise, Dick…_

After replaying Bruce's words in my head from earlier that morning, I said, "Tell them you found a man and his daughter in the alley… they were mugged… he's badly injured but his daughter is fine save for being in shock," I said while opening the first aid kit on my belt. As I tied a tourniquet around the broken and bleeding leg, I realized Batgirl had yet to leave, "Go!"

With rapid footsteps echoing in the empty street, I spoke to Mattie, "You need to take that off." She didn't answer and when I looked up, I realized the part about the daughter being in shock wasn't a lie. I called her name again and when she finally snapped out of it, I said, "You need to take anything off that Mattie Wayne wouldn't wear. The boots are fine with the leggings… the body armor and tunic need to go, same for the rest."

"Dick, is he---."

I cut her off, not wanting to lie but also knowing we didn't have time, "He's fine, you need to get changed, give me everything you take off, I'll take it with me."

She slowly rose to her feet, "You can't leave, you can't---."

"Now, Mattie!" I yelled.

Stepping behind me, she removed her guise while I went about changing Bruce out of his. Thankfully, he was unconscious because the act would have caused sheer agony given the number of bones that crunched. One-handed, I cut through the material as opposed to trying to pull it off. I had worn clothes too big for me over my leggings and tank top with the intention of putting them on Bruce. As I carefully removed my outer clothing, I realized just how badly my hand was trembling.

"I need your help, Mattie."

She was quick to respond, "What?"

"I'm going to hold him up, you need to pull the shirt on him, then the pants."

Although she nodded and was quick to kneel back down beside her father, the second her hands touched his limp body she recoiled, "Dick, I---."

"You don't have a choice. We don't have a choice."

Hesitantly, she pulled his arms through the sleeves, taking two attempts to button it up correctly. As she worked on it, I told her that she was to talk to no one, not the cops, the doctors or nurses, no one except the Family. "It's okay to just stare at them or start crying, but not a word. Not until we can get the circumstances to fit. Do you understand?" I asked as I gently set Bruce back down.

She nodded, her teary eyes never leaving Bruce's face.

"Hey, look at me… He's been through much, much worse. He's going to be fine." Certainly the tears in my eyes didn't help my argument, but I had to tell her something. "I want you to stay here with him, Cass will be right back then they're going to take you both to the hospital. I'll be there with your Mom and Barbara, okay? Just remember, don't say anything…"

A sob racked her small form as she tried to nod.

Before getting to my feet, I checked Bruce's vitals once more. To my surprise, as I held my ear above his lips to listen for air, something escaped his lips that sounded like Robin.

"Bruce?" I asked, touching his face gently.

Nothing.

Wishful thinking, Boy Wonder.

I leaned in and kissed her, "Take good care of him, Dr. Wayne. Ace and I'll be right over there until the ambulance leaves," I gestured to a small alley way situated between two apartments. After getting to dog's attention on me, I had him heel as I ran quickly for cover.

As I watched as Mattie quietly cried over Bruce's still form, Ace reclined next to me, setting his big head on my feet. Fifteen seconds later, a black cat was making it's way down the street, calling out to the night. No, a kitten…

"Sonofabtich." I muittered as the young feline slowly walked up to Mattie. When I had nearly hit it on my way to save Bruce, I had only seen a flash of black hair and tail. Looking more closely as it came to sit near Mattie, I realized it couldn't have been much older than Isis had been when Bruce had given her to selina for Christmas…

Six seconds later, an ambulance pulled up, barely coming to a stop before the medics quickly jumped out and began making their way over with drug boxes, portable cardiograms and the orange ALS bag carrying a defibrillator. Watching as two men began triage work on Bruce while a third female medic ushered Mattie away towards the ambulance, I spotted a pair of black and white rolling up, blue lights flashing.

I took a deep breath and radioed my wife, "Barbara?"

"God, Dick, why is no one talking to me? Why is Tim's signal activated?"

"Damned if I know… he showed up right after I did."

"I contacted him after he left the Watchtower to update him but then he jst took off…"

"I know… He's taken off after the Joker."

"Did you find Mattie?" she asked, her voice suddenly less frantic.

"Cass did… she's fine…" my heart lurched as the police stepped out of the squad cars, instantly squabbling with the medics about trying to get a statement from the victim they were trying to save. Knowing it was my duty, both according to Bruce's plan and as his eldest son, I asked, "Babs… is Selina there?"

"I'm here," she answered for herself, "Where's Bruce?"

Of course, he had deactivated the comm. link before going after the Joker and with it the biometric feedback that would have no doubt alarmed them of his unstable condition, made no better by me removing the cowl from his bruised head skull.

"Loading up a late forty year old male suffering from numerous contusions, compound fracture of the knee, additional and various broken bones and stab wounds…. Also taking a thirteen year old female, presumed to be his daughter, who is unharmed albeit in shock," I repeated after the medic had called it into his radio.

"Bruce…" I heard Selina whisper.

As I spied around the corner once more, I heard a medic call out, "He's in v-tach! BP's ninety over fifty, O2's down to seventy-five, push the IV epi!"

The other male medic declared, "On it!"

"He's coding!" his partner shot back.

Over it all, I heard the panicked cries of the uninjured thirteen year old girl.

… _that's a promise, Dick…_

"I'm sorry," I finally let the tears go as I slid down the wall, landing on the dirty pavement, "I was too late."

^V^


	17. Now And Then: XVII

Title: Now And Then: XVII

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The Family is reminded that victory does not come without defeat.

Rating: T

Infringement: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Forty pages… get comfy kids, it's a bouncy ride!

^V^

I should have been in bed, but instead I watched my father's heart give out three times in the eight minutes it too to get to Mercy General.

The first time my father had gone into a frenzied tachycardia had been just after the paramedics loaded him onto the gurney. His heart had promptly stopped, requiring epinephrine and a few rounds of CPR before they had enough of a rhythm to bring out the defibrillator. En route and not three minutes later, Dad had coded again, the tachycardia induced by the shock riding his system, arresting his heart suddenly. Had the episode been long enough, they could have shocked it back into a normal rhythm rather than have to go through the process of starting it back up again with dugs and compressions.

Given my interest in becoming a doctor, I loved watching trauma and medical shows.

I was never going to watch another one for the rest of my life.

I had wished I had stayed at the Watchtower.

The paramedics had been constantly barking back and forth on their radios with the ER attending physician, preparing the staff for the critical patient that was on his way. Rather than follow protocol and pull over until a sinus rhythm was established, they had kept blazing down the streets, alternating between maintaining and restarting my father's heart. I had heard bits and pieces as they evaluated his condition. Hemopneumothorax, decreased bilateral breath sounds, abdominal hemorrhaging, compound fracture of the leg, ruptured diaphragm, cranial bleeding, possible basilar skull fracture…

After that, I had stopped listening.

In fact, I had ignored them, the sirens and the gurgling sound as my father tried to breathe through the blood that was flooding his lungs. I had focused only on the cardiograph display as it blipped with each beat of his heart, holding my breath the three times the monotonous tone sounded as the line went straight.

The female medic that had looked me over had been the driver of the rig and had urged me to sit up front with her but I wouldn't let go of Dad's hand, even after he had been loaded. The other two medics had forced me to the bench on the right hand side, parallel with the gurney. Given that I had been unharmed, the two men had directed their focus to their other patient, allowing me to sneak my hand out to grab Dad's once more.

Unable to look at my father's face, I had kept my eyes on the EKG, only looking away once when his hand had jerked in mine, squeezing it tightly.

He was okay, he was going to wake up and everything was---.

"He's seizing, Nance, what's our ETA?" the older medic had called out, Dale Fowler as his name card read.

"Two minutes," she had answered back from the driver's seat.

The form on the gurney hadn't thrashed around as I had expected, but rather went rigid while quivering. The unnatural grip on my hand was the result of his brain malfunctioning but I made no attempt to free myself, despite the pain. His oxygen stats, already low, had plummeted, putting him into a hypoxic state. Given my life with asthma, I had known the effects oxygen deprivation had on my own body, but what my father had been experiencing was ten times worse.

I had felt relief wash over me when the grip loosened on its own after only forty-five seconds. Relief that turned to fear when Dale had said, for the third time, "He's in v-tach, again!"

The other medic, only labeled M. Davidson, shouted, "Let's go, Nance!"

She had called something back but I hadn't been able to hear it over Dale quickly breaking my hand away from my father's, "Come on, sweetie. Just sit back and we'll try to take care of him."

Thankfully, it had only taken two minutes of CPR and two doses of atropine to polarize his heart enough for defibrillation.

As we came to an abrupt stop, the medics had already set the portable oxygen tank between Dad's legs, the orange med bag at his feet and the IV bags hanging at his head. I stood as the men began to unload the gurney but when I jumped down to follow them in, I was stopped by Nance. She pulled me into an embrace, whispering into my ear that I was safe and that everything was going to be all right.

Judging by the two doctors and three nurses that were already walking along the gurney that her partners were ushering in, in addition to the chaotic delivery of medical jargon, I decided to hold off on believing her.

Another doctor, an older woman clad in blue scrubs and a white coat, walked towards us with two male nurses pushing a gurney behind her. Offering a tired smile, the doctor asked, "Who do we have here, Nance?"

Nance looked to me, "Not sure, she hasn't said a word. She's shocky but otherwise she seems okay." Dr. Clare looked to the blood on my hands and she was quick to explain, "His, not hers."

After removing my suit, I had been left with my boots, leggings and long-sleeved silk undershirt. All black. Had I worn a tank top under my suit in stead, no doubt my arms would have shown how bloody they were from helping hold Dad up while Dick….

The doctor smiled again before sending the gurney back to the ER empty, "I'm Dr. Clare. Let's get you inside, dear." She didn't set a hand on me but rather lead the way through the automatic doors, bypassing the packed triage room and reception area and finally towards a private exam room.

There was no sign of my Family.

As Dick had warned me, the police were already there, an Hispanic woman and a tall man who reminded of Ray Romano. Spotting us, they stepped forward but Dr. Clare shook her head, "I need to examine her first. Make sure she's stable."

The female cop shook her head, resting her hands on her hips, "No offense, doc, whoever did this is still out there… we need to question her now, given the condition of the other vic."

I wanted to say, Yes, whoever did this was still out there, but Batman was going to get him... And the 'vic' is my father and of course he can't talk, he can barely breathe so shut up! But Dick had told me not to say anything, so I simply looked at my feet.

Dr. Clare held her ground as she opened the door for me, "It can wait."

After she closed us in, she ushered me to the clean examination table and patted it. Automatically, I climbed up staring down at my lap, more specifically at my bloodied hands. Adjusting the stethoscope lying over the back of her neck, she then grabbed a stainless steel stool and pulled it over to sit in front of me. After another tired smile, she said, "I know it's a lot to take in. And I know… it's scary. But you don't have to be scared, you're safe now."

I nodded but that was all I could offer her.

"If you want to tell me what happened, or who you are or… if you want me to get someone here, your family… You can tell me. Okay?"

Another nod.

"I'm going to check your vitals, and then examine you for any injuries. Do you remember getting hurt at all?" After I shook my head, she asked, "Nance said you seemed okay, but I just want to make sure."

I tried to focus as she checked my pulse and blood pressure, tasks left to emergency nurses not doctors. As she listened to my breath sounds, I finally said, "I have asthma,"

"Are you having any trouble breathing?"

I shook my head, "No… just… just thought you should know."

"Well, thank you for telling me."

When I was fit with a clear bill of health, I asked, "Can I go see my dad?"

Dr. Clare shook her head, "I can go check on him, if you'd like? I think it would be best if you just rest here for a bit."

I was about to say that I was going to go find him, with her help or not, but there was a knock at the door. Granted with permission, one of the male nurses from earlier popped his head in, "Clare, we've got people out here say they are related to the last two that came in."

My eyes lit and I jumped off of the exam table, ignoring the protests of Dr. Clare and the nurse. Making it into the brightly lit corridor, I turned towards the reception area at the sight of my mother and Dick. I thought they had looked up at me because they had heard me running but as I crashed into my mother's arms, I realized it was because I had been crying loudly. She wrapped her arms around me tightly before kissing the top of my head, seeming to ignore the fact that I was bawling into her chest.

As I regained my composure, she broke away slightly to look down at me, "Don't you ever, ever do that again."

"I promise,' I managed.

She had smiled through her own tears, "You better promise… I find out you teleport on your own again, so help me, child…"

Somehow, I found it in my to laugh through the sobs.

When she released me, I turned to Dick, who had changed into jeans and a tee shirt, replacing the sling on his left arm. I hugged him less violently, feeling his right hand gently rub my back as he whispered into my ear, "It's going to be okay..."

I found myself calming, finally, then asked, "Tim and Cass?"

"Still working," he replied before kissing my cheek, "But they're almost done."

As I finally stepped away to stand on my own two feet, I looked to see the police officers approaching along with Dr. Clare. Dick moved to intervene the police while the doctor took to standing before my mother. Rather than watch Dick, I found my eyes locked onto my doctor, "I'm Dr. Clare Beaumont… I examined who I presume is your daughter."

Mom looked down to me and nodded, "Yes… Mattie… I'm Selina… I… got worried when they didn't call after going into the city… and then when my husband didn't answer his cell phone… and then I got a call saying they were here…" The panic in her voice was far too real to be for appearance's sake.

Someone had called her? I thought to myself. Then again, once they had wiped his face clean, someone must have recognized my father…

Dr. Clare nodded, "Yes. I examined… Mattie, here. She seems to be fine physically. Not even an asthma episode."

"And my husband?"

The ER doctor hesitated before saying, "Our resident trauma surgeon and emergency physician are working on him now. If you'd like, I can take you to them."

"Please, yes…" Mom gasped, and then looked to me, "You stay here with Dick, okay?"

"But, Mom…" I tried to argue.

"No, stay here."

After watching them head towards the trauma bays, Dick stepped back towards me, bringing the cops with him, "Mattie… this is Officer Ramirez and Sargeant Barkley. They need to ask you a few questions about what happened… do you feel up to talking yet?" he asked before winking down at me slightly.

I started crying again, "I want to see my dad!" before trying to run after my mother. Dick intervened, grabbing me with his good arm and pulling me into another embrace. I heard him apologize to the officers before telling them he would try to calm me down for questioning.

"Much appreciated, Detective," Ray Romano's twin said. Dick was quick to correct the tall man but the officer countered, "You'll always be Detective to me, Dick."

After making our way back to my exam room, I managed to get myself under control once more by asking him, "Who was that?"

"David Barkley, he used to be in Bludhaven. He was actually in that bank robbery with me. He's a good guy," Dick paused as he waited for me to get on the exam table before joining me.

"What do I tell them?" I finally asked.

Dick sighed before explaining, "Well, it looks like this was easier to cover up than I had expected. Apparently, it's your late Grandpa Wayne's birthday today… so, in honor of him, you and your dad went to Crime Alley to pay your respects before dropping off a cake at the Free Clinic. Unfortunately, there was a unsavory character there that tried to mug him… He told you to run, which you did, and thus kept you from seeing what happened to him. Or who did it."

He hesitated, seeming to force himself to believe the lie as well. "You came back when it was quiet…"

"And saw Batman."

"Mattie---."

"I did see him though," I had tried to put humor into my voice, but it still came out pathetic and weak.

"Fine," he relented, "You saw Batman… he sent Batgirl to get an ambulance while he chased after the bad guy. Explains the who, the what, the when, the where and the why."

"Just not the how."

Dick paused again, letting his head drop slightly, "I'm not sure any of us want to know the how."

He made me explain what had happened that night fifty times, making sure that instead of elaborating on details, to say that I had forgotten them amidst the panic and fear that had set in to my innocent, thirteen year old veins. When he felt I was ready, he stood up, called in Sergeant Barkley for me to give my performance to.

Although I was able to rattle off the slanderous words automatically, I couldn't but wish that they were the truth. That Dad and I had been strolling along into an unpredictable situation and that he, a normal man, had been the victim of a senselessly violent crime while trying to protect his eldest daughter. I would given anything for the cover-up story to be true…

Statement recorded, Dick went to go check on Mom, leaving me alone. Given how well it worked at the Justice League's headquarters, there was no chance I was staying put at a hospital. Stepping into the hall, I navigated down the corridor towards triage and a cacophony of horrible sounds. Yelling, crying, beeping, swearing.

My father's gurney suddenly flew out of one of the trauma rooms with a score of people surrounding it. I spotted a number of green smocked people as well as my mother and Dick. Who I had not expected to see was Dr. Clare, who had been so kind and gentle, straddling my father's hips as she compressed onto his chest. She was barking out orders left and right, even threatening someone's future ability to sire children if the OR suite wasn't ready when they got upstairs. The group backed off as the gurney was pushed into the elevator car, leaving just Dr. Clare, my mother, another doctor and two nurses.

If Dad only knew how very similar he and the woman saving his life were…

Having found my father's will dated and signed on his desk that morning, I had still managed to deny the fact that he would fall at the hands of the Joker. His returning to the cowl was the solution to the suffering we had endured, not the catalyst. Even seeing him laying in a pool of his own blood, unconscious and unresponsive, just as his parents had once been hadn't been enough. When his heart gave out three times in the span of eight minutes, I hadn't still hadn't accepted it.

It was as the elevator car doors closed on them that I realized I may never see him alive again.

Dick's hand found my shoulders again and he reminded me that it was going to be okay.

I had left the Watchtower to help my father.

I had forced Cass to come look for me.

He faced the Joker alone because of me.

If he died, it meant that I had killed him.

^V^

With the youngest Wayne and Grayson slumbering away, I stepped into the living area of Master Bruce's former Watchtower quarters to have a word with someone I had not spoken with in some time. It wasn't that I had not been given the opportunity but in the years that had passed and the challenges I had faced, it seemed as if our relationship had come to an end. Given that my mother had been a devout Catholic and my father a principled Anglican, it would have been a sin in itself to not turn to said individual in such dire times.

Even as weak as my knees were, I managed to kneel before the vast window overlooking Earth, a breathtaking view that I had not expected to see in my lifetime. Quietly, I bowed my head and held my hands together at the railing, "I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of Heaven and earth and in Jesus Christ, his only son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead and buried…"

I glanced back to see the boys still sleeping soundly through the open doorway.

After a moment, I proceeded, "He descended into Hell; the third day he rose again from the dead, he ascended into Heaven and sitteh on the right hand of God the Father Almighty. From thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead."

Master Bruce's face flashed in my mind and I hoped that it was a subconscious action as opposed to being an epiphany.

Concluding, my voice barely above a whisper, I said, "I believe in the Holy Christ, the Holy catholic church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting... Amen."

As a second thought, I made an amendment, "Dear Lord… If I ask nothing else of you, please watch over him… protect him. Guide him with your wisdom and strength and everlasting love. I beg of you… You have taken so much from us, dear Lord. My faith can only be tested for so---."

There was a knock at the door and I involuntarily jumped up, far quicker than I had expected my old bones to be capable of. Striding towards the only entrance, I closed the door to the bedroom first before calling out, "Who is it?"

"Alfred, it's Clark."

It had been nearly an hour since I had spoken with him last, following Miss Mattie and Master Tim's unexpected and prohibited return to Gotham City. Knowing my place was with the young boys in my charge, I had no choice but to stay behind at the Watchtower. I found myself hoping that Master Bruce's eldest daughter had not made a fatal error before being found by her mentors.

After submitting to the requests of the electronic biometric panel, of which required a palm reading and retinal scan, I opened the door and stepped into the corridor. Drawing my housecoat around me, I asked quietly, "Any word?"

The look on his face answered my question before he said, "Yes… she's fine. Cassandra found her." His eyes blinked rapidly as he looked down at himself. Finally, he continued, "It's Bruce."

Master Bruce had predicted that at least a week would pass before he would be able to find the Joker. Given the former Dr. Quinn's visit to the Free Clinic, he had taken opportunity to strike, long before he had been ready. Naturally, there had been inkuries dealt between the two of them.

"How bad is it?"

He shook his head slightly, "Barbara didn't have the exact details, only what Dick told her… he… he's broken his leg badly, on top of numerous other injuries… he was just sent up to the OR at Mercy General, Barbara is trying to get a feed to the surgery suite to see how he is."

"Master Dick found him? What of Ms. Cassandra and Master Tim?"

His voice quieted as a pair of unknown league members strolled past, "Dick told Barbara that he was headed to Crime Alley to help but he was too late… Bruce was already down… but at least he had managed to have the dog keep the Joker from running away…. The others showed up within two minutes… Just, two minutes too late…"

"Time heals all wounds, Mr. Kent… it is nothing he hasn't faced dozens of times before."

When his icy blue eyes found mine, he countered, "Barbara listened to the dispatch as the ambulance transported him… this is more than a few wounds, Alfred… he nearly died just getting to the hospital."

After a moment, I cleared my throat, "I may require your babysitting services, Mr. Kent…and not those of Mr. West."

"You're going back?" he asked, sounding more like a child than the last son of Krypton.

"Mayhaps… I shall need to make a telephone call to be sure."

Doubt taking hold of him, he sighed, "I shouldn't have listened to him, I wanted to go but he said no---."

Trying to offer him some form of comfort, I stated, "It was best that you heeded him, sir, he removed his wedding ring earlier today for safe keeping… no doubt he would have replaced it with a green ring had you interfered."

A smirk tugged at his sad face, "Probably would have…"

Excusing myself, I returned to the living quarters, taking a seat at the lone electronic device in the room. Appearing like any other high end desktop computer, it acted as such in addition to telephone communications, shadowing personal computers back on Earth as well as inter-station communication. Miss Mattie had initially tried to use to contact young Master Terrance back in Gotham but her father had already put a block on what numbers would be accepted.

The first number I dialed was that of the primary witness, Master Dick.

After two rings, he answered, "Hello?"

"Master Dick."

"God, Alfred, it's good to hear your voice." Another titan sounding like a lost little boy…

"Mr. Kent informed me that Miss Mattie has been found, thank God."

"Yeah, she's okay… Cass found her right away… Which was a good thing…" he paused briefly before, "I guess he told you about Bruce?"

"What little he knew, sir." He made a few odd breaths, of which I soon determined to be an effort at controlling sobs. I felt my stomach twist as I asked, "Richard. Tell me… Tell me how bad is it?"

"Bad. Really bad," the words came out as sobs. After a few deep breaths, he did his best to explain, "He, uh… it looks like he fell from a four story building… lots of impact injuries… It was as if he didn't even try to… don't know why he wouldn't have fought back but…"

"Sir… he's alive, that's all that matters," I told him as well as myself.

Another round of quiet sobs, then, "Selina's in talking with the doctor now… he's already in surgery but… I don't know, maybe something happened…"

"Sir?"

"She's coming out, Alfred… I… I have to go."

"Richard?"

Click.

Well that certainly made my choice to return home that much easier.

Mr. Kent was still at the door when I opened it once more after quickly changing into trousers, a short and sweater. Leaving the children in his care, I quickly made my way to the teleportation bay, reaching it just as Mr. J'onnz appeared. While he set the coordinates and waited for the clear signal, he nodded to me.

"I must thank you for short lived hospitality, sir."

"Not nearly as hospitable as you once were to me," he replied, his deep baritone smooth and emotionless.

Mr. J'onnz had been one of the very few individuals of the Justice League who had been made aware of Master Bruce's amnesia nearly fourteen years earlier. In fact, it was after Miss Mattie's birth that he had become aware of the situation, quickly offering his telepathic abilities to aide Master Bruce in recovering his lost memories. Over those many visits, he had become a welcome guest to Wayne Manor as he slowly helped unlocked portions of my charge's mind.

Even though there was nary a chocolate cookie in the house upon his departure…

Without another word, I stepped onto the white, metallic platform and closed my eyes. Upon opening them, and battling a wave of nausea, I counted my fingers and toes before exhaling loudly. Sure enough, every vehicle given the prefix of Bat was gone save for the jet and the boat, not to mention the older vehicles kept for sentimental reasons. Rather than waste time racing upstairs and to the garage, I selected one of the sedans used for stakeouts and undercover work.

Sitting behind the wheel of a dinged up blue Taurus, I turned the key and began up the drive towards the exit. Glancing at the dashboard, I muttered as a means of distracting my mind, "Clock needs to be changed… no doubt on all of them do… Can't be trusted to be left alone…"

The ride into the city took an eternity, the evening construction on the Westward Bridge reducing three lanes to one. Every second, every minute that ticked away, I waited for the call that I had dreaded for thirty years, the call from some doctor or morgue attendant looking to contact the nearest of kin. Although, I hadn't been his nearest relation for some time. Whether he had intended it or not, Master Bruce had a Family, one that needed him ever so desperately at this darkest hour.

As I finally crossed the Gotham River, I heard a mobile device sounding to my left. At a quick glance, I recognized the outdated cell phone in an outlet charger, although I knew it was more than it seemed. Activating the speaker phone, I greeted, "Ms. Barbara?"

"Alfred… why are you driving a---."

"I felt there wasn't a moment to waste. Has there been word from Master Tim?" I inquired, noting that there had been nearly forty-five minutes since I had spoken with Master Dick.

She sighed over the communication link, "Not yet…"

"And Master Bruce?"

Another pause came before she answered, "He's still in the OR. There was extensive abdominal and thoracic trauma… not to mention a skull fracture and a compound fracture of the knee… They're going to work on him top to bottom… then see if they can repair his leg."

This was not a job for Superman.

This was a job for someone who had a gift for healing Master Bruce's broken bones.

"Shall I retrieve you from the Clocktower?"

"No… I… Selina left in a police escort to the hospital, there's still two cars out front… And I can't leave Tim and Cass out there alone. Not now," her tone hardened, "When it's over, we'll be there."

"Very well… if I could ask three, small favors of you first?"

"Anything, Alfred," Ms. Barbara was quick to respond, sounding almost relieved to be able to help.

"First, I would ask that you rest assured, your young child is sound asleep, safely guarded by his stuffed giraffe and his Uncle Clark..." After I heard a soft, sad laugh, I proceeded, "Second, the Gulfstream needs to be sent immediately to the Logan International Airport."

She interrupted, "Boston? What for?"

"For reasons which will hopefully be made clear upon the aircraft's return to Gotham."

A moment of silence passed before Ms. Barbara inquired, "And the third?"

"Please… put me in contact with the Doctors Without Borders facility."

"Done… thank you, Alfred, for telling her… I'm… I'm not sure I would be able to." With that, she closed the connection, instantly putting me through to the satellite phone in my former bedroom in Sierra Leone.

I had spoken with Leslie once since returning to Gotham, of which had been a painful discussion about how far the Family had fallen in my absence and that she was needed home as well. Although she desired to, she was unable to comply, citing that leaving the hundreds of families who needed her for a single family was impossible.

"This is not a family, this is your Family. Ours," I had all but barked.

"I'm sorry, Alfred… I can't," she had stated before hanging up.

Hopefully, I had enough evidence to prove the need for her to come home. After six rings, she finally answered hesitantly. It was as I looked at the dashboard clock's hour off time that I realized it was nearly three in the morning given the four hour time difference. "Leslie, it's Alfred."

"Alfie… what time is it?" her voice sounded as if she was still asleep.

"I apologize for the hour, my dear, but it is a dire one."

She was suddenly alert, "What's happened?"

After recounting the attack on the Drakes and Master Tim's subsequent relinquishment of the cowl, I explained how Master Bruce had taken the helm in order to track down the Joker. When she remained silent, I had proceeded, "This was his first attempt at his search… and he was… successful to an extent."

"At what cost?" she asked immediately.

"He… is gravelly injured. I fear the worst… we need you, Leslie."

There was a long pause and I began to wonder if I had lost the connection when she responded, "And what… Tim?"

"… He has returned and is currently pursuing the Joker as we speak."

"You said Bruce was… successful."

"In finding him, regrettably he was unable to apprehend him."

"Alfred… I… this is madness… what made him think that he could… to his Fam…."

Nearing the parking garage of the hospital, I said, "Leslie, you're breaking up."

"…arrogant to… put us through… I won't stand… himself, Alfred…"

"Leslie?" I said hurriedly.

"No… I... I'm sorry, Alfred… I can't watch him… for this foolish war… Not after… done to his… I won't…"

The dial tone sounded, filling the silent car.

After parking on the second floor of the garage structure, I sat quietly, still holding the steering wheel. Since Master Bruce had been a child, she had always stood by his side as well as mine. Granted, we had a falling out when I allowed him to depart for his globe-trotting self-education to prepare for the war on crime, but she had welcomed both of us with open arms when he returned safe and sound. As he fought, both alone and along those that had taken up arms with him, she had protested his actions while oddly enough supporting them. She, much like myself, had been one of the few constants in his life, a life full of chaos and violent variables.

We had both left for Africa in order to do good by ourselves for the first time in our lives, leaving him behind.

I had a terrible feeling that one of us would not be returning.

Taking my hands from the wheel, I retrieved the telephone and dialed information. After being prompted, I asked for the Boston Medical Center. On the third ring, I had been greeted with an automated operator and was forced to wait until hearing, "For Intensive Care department, press one-nine," before finally speaking to a human.

"ICU, Randall speaking."

"Yes… I would like to speak with Dr. Shondra Kinsolving, please."

"One moment."

What seemed like a lifetime ago, Dr. Kinsolving had been a true force of light in Master Bruce's life. Without her, he would have surely died from his self-destructive behavior capturing the inmates that the villainous Bane had released long before he had suffered the madman's physical wrath. Upon having his spinal cord shattered, she had continued to support his recovery without question, doing anything to aide him. It had been no surprise that an emotional bond had developed between the two but as always, fate had twisted its blade just as hope was beginning to rise.

She and Master Tim's father had been kidnapped by Dr. Kinsolving's brother as a means of controlling the good doctor and using her for his own purposes. Knowing without her that he may never walk again, Master Bruce and I had traveled Europe to search for them which in turn had gotten my charge kidnapped as well… after I had quit. Although Master Bruce detested magic and the paranormal, the one instance in his life where he had been grateful for it had been when Dr. Kinsolving had used her indescribable telepathic healing abilities to save his life.

Her brother, similarly powered, had wanted to use her to combine their abilities as a means of assassinating elected officials for ransom. Where she had the ability to heal, her powers combined with his telekinetic energy, were capable of causing targets to suffer from massive coronaries. Although Master Bruce had saved her from Benedict, the traumatic events that had occurred had left the woman in a child-like state.

For nearly a decade, she had lived in foster care, her new family doing their best to bring her out of the regressive state. For many months following their return home, Master Bruce had made numerous visits upstate, hoping to find the woman he had once loved. As his life moved on, Master Bruce had more important matters to deal with, although I had known that he regularly sent checks to her caretakers for nearly ten years following his last visit.

Apparently, time did heal all wounds.

I had received a call from her nearly two years ago, informing me that all was well and she was back to practicing medicine in Boston. She asked that I not tell Master Bruce, stating that if he wanted to know, he would find out on his own. When I had politely inquired as to why she wished to keep her recovery secret, she had replied, "I would say that it was because I am married now and I don't want to make my past any more complicated that it already is… but… in truth, Alfred… I… After what happened, after all he did for me… I can never repay him…"

Upon assuring her that Master Bruce aided her as he would have any other, she had replied, "We both know that's not true. He came for me because… he needed me."

"He came for you because he loved you, Dr. Kinsolving.."

She had gone quiet before saying, "Well, if he does need me, ever again… call. And give Tim and Jack my best."

He needs you now, my dear, more than ever.

^V^

Barbara could have disabled the lockdown Dick had put into place shortly after he had left, but given that I had no where else to go at the time, I had stayed put. That was until Mercy General had called Wayne Manor, the call forwarded to my cell, saying that my husband was in their emergency room and that one of the patrol cars down below would take me to him.

Five minutes earlier, we had gotten word from Dick that my daughter was safe, Tim was taking down the Joker and the Bruce was being loaded on an ambulance.

His connection had been cut short, ending horrifically with the sounds of the ambulance sirens, my daughter screaming and Dick crying while begging for forgiveness, "I was too late." When we were unable to raise him again, I felt panic begin to set in, in addition to crippling fear. Was he alive? Where was the Joker? How late was too late?

Over the course of the afternoon, I had slowly begun to prepare myself for the inevitable. Surely Bruce would be able to lure the Joker out of hiding somehow and their confrontation would lead to devastation on my part. By doing so, Bruce walking away with a few injuries would have been a relief in my eyes. Between watching Bruce say goodbye to our children and him giving me back his wedding ring, I had convinced myself I was ready for the worst. He was more than willing and capable of making the ultimate sacrifice for his first true love, Gotham City, even after he handed the reins over to his protégé.

I just hadn't expected his first attempt to end tragically.

After I had ended the call with Mercy General, I had looked to Barbara as if I needed her permission or encouragement to race to Bruce's side. She was quick to urge, "Go, I'll keep an eye on things."

Racing out of the room, I sprinted to the front door, my heart tying to beat its way through my ribcage. Taking the elevator, I was given a minute and a half of arrested movement, most of which was spent trying to get my vitals under control. Upon reaching the lobby, an officer was already waiting with the door, quickly ushering me to the patrol car parked in the fire lane. I hadn't even gotten in all of the way when they took off down the street, reporting to Mercy that we were en route.

Friends in high places…

As lights flashed and the city whizzed by, I found myself thinking back to a March morning, waking in a cold sweat in Bruce's arms. I had just suffered a horrible nightmare that he had been attacked by the Joker and when I had arrived at the hospital it had been too late. Regaining my bearings after waking from my worst nightmare, I had asked Bruce, "Would you ever go back, to the cowl?"

At the time, it hadn't been a possibility, but that was before the Joker had destroyed our lives in a very personal way. Bruce had reassured me, "I stepped down because I was physically unable to uphold my oath. Returning after all these years would not only endanger myself but everyone."

"… What if you had no choice?"

"There's always a choice," he had kissed my forehead, "Dare I ask what has prompted this line of questioning?"

Rather than tell him about my dream, I had said that if it was true, that if the Joker was trying to find a way to Bruce, then he would find one. He had again tried to put my mind at ease, saying he would have to get through everyone else to reach him. Looking back, his calming words had been a haunting premonition.

As a final effort to put it behind me, I had moved closer to Bruce in bed before telling him, "Just promise me you'll grow old and gray with me."

He had chuckled softly, "I'm already old and gray."

"… Until I'm old and gray. Promise?"

He had pinkie promised, belying the childish gesture with a grave look in his blue eyes.

As we pulled up to the emergency drop-off at the hospital, I could think of nothing but the feel of his body against mine from that morning and the steady beat of his heart as I had pressed my hand to his chest. Stepping out of the vehicle, I became aware of another sensation, the chill of his wedding ring laying on my chest.

The nameless, faceless officer escorted me through the emergency entrance and I scanned the overcrowded triage and waiting area for my daughter's face. I was relieved that she hadn't been thrown in with some of Gotham's less savory individuals but then worried for where she might have been. Approaching the main reception desk, I gasped at the sight of Dick, my mind flashing back to the dream that was looming over me.

… They tried to stop the bleeding but… it was worse than they thought… there wasn't anything they could do…

"Is there anything else, Mrs. Wayne?"

I turned to face the officer, having completely forgotten about him in the bustles of the emergency room. After shaking my head, he nodded and quickly vanished into the throng of patients, nurses and random faces. Among those faces was a man wearing a sling, leaning over the reception desk while seemingly waiting to speak with a nurse who was on the phone.

"Dick?" I called out over the chaotic volume.

He glanced up instantly, take three quick strides to reach me, "Hey, you just get here?" When I nodded, he said while looking to his right down the busy corridor, "Same here. Mattie is being checked over in Exam Room 5---."

"I thought you said she was okay?" I demanded, panic rising in my voice.

Dick remained calm, "She is… they just need to make sure. That pair of cops over there are here to question her, but I'll make sure I talk to her first."

"What about Bruce?"

He hesitated before gazing down the left hand corridor briefly before looking to me, "He's in a trauma room… I tried to get back there but they had a big orderly chase me away."

Before I could run to the trauma room, orderly be damned, I spotted Mattie approaching with an older woman wearing a doctor's coat. After hugging my daughter and making sure she was in fact fine, the doctor introduced herself as Dr. Beaumont, quickly offering to take me to Bruce. Before leaving, I looked to Mattie, "You stay here with Dick, okay?"

"But, Mom…" she instinctively retorted.

"No, stay here."

We made our way through the crowded hall branching to the left of the reception area, passing other trauma rooms filled with activity. She caught me looking and reported, "There was a bus accident, we ended up taking four criticals." As we reached the fifth room, she stopped me, "I'll have to ask you to wait out here until I clear it with Dr. Benton."

Somehow I had processed the words she had said and responded in agreement, although my eyes and attention never left the sight on the other side of the glass doors. At least eight people were around the gurney, working in small groups on various parts of him. The common themes throughout had been blue sterile dressings, stainless steel instruments and bloodied gloves and gowns.

She stepped into the room, the door opening to a collection of sounds from the beeps of the vital monitor to the orders being barked by the head of trauma surgery who had been called down just for him. Dr. Beaumont spoke briefly with him before looking to me and nodding. I carefully pushed the swinging door inward, taking tentative steps into the room.

"Mrs. Wayne, I'm Dr. Benton, head of truama surgery… we'll be taking him up shortly to---," his eyes looked up to the other side of the gurney, "Aiden, when was the last lidocaine push?"

A younger man standing across from him answered, "Two minutes,"

"Push it again… We don't need another V-tach…" he ordered before returning his divided focus to me and my husband, "Mrs. Wayne, we'll be taking him upstairs for emergency surgery… given the number of injuries he's sustained, we'll be focusing intensively on the skull fracture and thoracic and abdominal injuries…"

I stared at him, the words sinking deep into my gut.

He finished by saying, "We have someone from orthopedic surgery on standby but he won't be able to address the leg fracture until after the serious threats are resolved." When Dr. Benton looked up to see the terrified look on my face, he explained, "There is a chance we may have to amputate."

"I… I…"

"I'll have a nurse bring you the consent forms for the surgeries… Shelly, have them printed out right now," a young black woman in pink scrubs nodded before handing off her position on the ambu bag to another, "Do you have any questions?"

Shaking my head belied the words that came out of my mouth, "Can I---?"

"Of course," Dr. Benton stepped back after asking a nurse to have more type specific blood sent up from the bank, "He's unconscious given the head injury but…"

I finally approached the gurney. It wasn't like the dream where Bruce had been awake, assuring me with a weak smile that everything was going to be fine. His bruised face was still and silent, and he was unable to hold my hand. Not only was he intubated, but he bore a chest tube that was draining blood and air from his torso while a central line under his collar bone pumped blood and drugs back into his system. His bare chest was mottled with bruises as well as garish lacerations from his waist up along his sides.

Upon hearing that they were ready to go, I touched his left hand briefly, unnerved at how cold it---.

"He's coding!" a voice rang out.

I looked up to the heart monitor that was just alive with activity suddenly turned chaotic before becoming lifeless, lost in a monotonous beep. A nurse went to start compressions when Dr. Beaumont appeared in my peripheral vision, climbing on board the gurney in order to take over the task while ordering atropine STAT. "What did the echo show?"

Dr. Benton was quick to answer, "Ventricular edema, mild pericardial effusion, we pulled ten cc's when he came in." He pulled over a small stand holding an ultrasound and placed the sensor paddle to Bruce's chest. I found my eyes going to the monitor even though I had no idea what to make of the gray, blurry images.

Apparently, it hadn't been good as Dr. Benton called out, "We need to get him upstairs, now!"

Rather than waiting to stabilize him, Dr. Beaumont began barking at anyone who didn't move fast enough. When I had first seen her, she had reminded me of Leslie but suddenly she bore no resemblance. As the gurney was unlocked and the group pushed it out into the hall and towards the elevators, I suddenly found myself coming out of the daze, chasing after them as quickly as possible.

I had expected to not be allowed onto the elevator with him but a nurse ushered my forward as he entered along with Dr. Benton and Dr. Beaumont. Doors sealing us in, I had no choice but to watch as the nurses inserted syringes into Bruce's central line as Dr. Clare pumped on his chest. When my eyes finally found another focal point, it had been Dr. Benton reading the printout of the EKG.

Dr. Beaumont had asked in between compressions, "Ease up on the ambu," the nurse promptly did so as the doctor continued, "Talk to me, John."

He glanced to me before answering, "It's been monomorphic tach, this last round is right ventricle, hold on the atropine, let's push the adenosine---."

The elevator doors opened and Dr. Beaumont glanced up at the monitor, sweat beading her brow, "We need a heartbeat before we suppress it!"

As they pushed the gurney away, still arguing, I slowly stepped off onto the floor, one nurse remaining at my side. When they had disappeared though a air of double doors, the young woman beside me touched my elbow, "Mrs. Wayne… why don't we sit down."

"What?" I asked.

She smiled, having faced the spouses of thousands of patients, "Here, let's go into the lounge... I'll get the consent forms printed and… can I get you a cup of coffee or something?"

"No, I… I…"

"Is there someone I can call?"

"I… I…" I felt my chest growing tighter with every breath, knowing what I wanted, she was incapable of obtaining.

All I wanted was for Bruce to tell me that everything was going to be fine, like in the dream, even if it was a lie.

Finally, I relented and followed her to a small, out of the way waiting area, nodding at her promise to be right back. Thankfully, I still had the elevator bank in view and I spotted the second Dick and Mattie appeared, along with Alfred. Rather than get to my feet, I waved them over, watching as they hurriedly approached, Mattie lagging behind slightly.

I hadn't realized I was crying until Mattie wrapped her arms around me, "It's okay, Mom, everything is going to be fine."

^V^

Finding my father lying dead in a bathroom stall the night before had done nothing to deter the shock of seeing Bruce lying bleeding to death in Crime Alley.

Cass had no doubt acted on his behalf, keeping me at the Watchtower while the two of them began their quest for the Joker. I should have been furious at her but rather than rage, worry had coursed through my veins. The bruises and sutures on her head, arm and leg still had inflammation induced by the trauma of being shot, not to mention her brain bore its own brand of bruising. Bruce had no right to encourage Cass to risk her life, and if he needed help, he could have accepted my offer rather than denounce it.

Upon finding that Mattie had evaded one of the long standing members of the Justice League, my worry had only quadrupled. Her brief taste of vigilantism had been invigorating given how successful she had been. When I had showed her the dangers of being young and naïve, not to mention without backup, she had taken the criticism without so much as blinking. Dick and I had joked for years she was born to wear a mask but now that it had become reality, no one was laughing.

Save for the Joker.

For four, long months he had been laughing at us, leaving behind the Old Jokes, attacking random targets while slowly progressing to reach us in ways we never thought possible. From the atrocities he had performed on Helena to Bruce's far too still form, he had the winning edge, the head start, the upper hand.

No more.

I had approached the scene in Crime Alley slowly, not to ascertain the status of the situation, but because I was shocked by what was before my eyes. Where Mattie and Cassandra had been suited up, Dick had been in civilian clothes save for a bullet proof vest and the gun in his hands. Ace sat panting beside Mattie and a dark garbed figure that was dressed just as I was while the Joker, bleeding and laughing, was slowly walking backwards.

Dick, lowering his weapon, had been the first to spot me but remained stoic, maintaining his cold gaze on the Joker. While half of my brain formulated a way to make the clown suffer a fraction of what I had in the last twenty-four hours, the other half focused in on Bruce and the horrified look on his daughter's masked face as she knelt beside him. Fury shadowed over her covered face, Batgirl stormed towards the Joker as he commented that he had already shot her that weekend, naturally making her growl, "Wasn't enough."

Not wanting another beating by her hands, he spun around to flee but crashed into me, taking a staggering step back before looking up. He recovered instantly, absorbing the hatred from my eyes while mocking me, "Now you show up… punctuality isn't your strong point, kid. You always seem to show up after I've done my worst!"

The half of my brain that had been on Bruce was quickly joined by the other. Seeing his still, mangled body, I found his words echoing in my mind from years earlier. I had just begun my formal training as Robin, of which he fast forwarded through by intermixing lectures with sparring lessons. When he had been fine tuning my To-Shin Do, he had explained, "Never give your opponent the luxury of knowing he has defeated you, mentally, emotionally or physically."

"What if it's too much, what if you can't hold it back?"

After knocking me to the ground, Bruce had answered, "It's never an option. If you let them know you feel weak, you are weak. And weaknesses don't save anyone."

Lesson learned.

The Joker's grin drew my attention back to him as he squealed, "Tragic… this ought to help take the sting out of your latest failure!"

Inhaling, I lurched backwards just as he activated his infamous acid spray, either kept in a fake flower on his lapel or as my wide eyes saw, in a small device up his sleeve. Although it gave him another head start, the act had spared me from spending the next three months recovering from chemical burns on my face. Upon standing upright, my gaze didn't look to the Joker as he skipped down the street but rather to Dick.

When Batgirl began to take off after our foe, I stopped her, Dick's tortured face still in my line of sight, "No, he's mine."

Dick assured me, without warrant, "Go. We'll take care of him."

_It's never an option…_

Bat out of hell would have been a fairly accurate summarization of how I raced down the street, following a jumping shadow and the cackles it emitted. Pursuing the Joker, I gained ground while mentally replaying my brief evaluation of him as he had bore a number of injuries. His face and neck had been bloody, red spots on his forehead had suggested taser darts, and the unbalanced shuffle in which he had taken off in hinted on a number of general injuries to his legs and body.

Bruce hadn't gone down without a fight.

Bruce…

_If you let them know you feel weak, you are weak…_

"JOKER!" I bellowed, bearing left the end of the street. I had expected that he would either be gone entirely or waiting to bash my brains in. Thankfully, it had been the later.

"Duck!" he called out before swinging a large club at me.

Recalling the monstrous file we had on him in the Crays, he called it the Slapstick. Heeding the warning, I ducked, diving headfirst into his abdomen while locking my arms around his back. Colliding with the pavement, his head cracked back hard, causing his laughter to cut short by a cry of pain. Dropping the stick, he slapped my cheek, driving the hand buzzer turned blade on his middle finger into flesh.

_And weaknesses do not save anyone…_

Rather than crying out in pain, I called out in rage, launching my brow into his, the force of which shattered his nose and ripped the blade from my face. He attempted to laugh it off, snorting wetly, "Always using that head of yours, boy!"

I used it again, knocking a bottom incisor from his jaw bone.

He growled, his smile rapidly evolving to a bloody sneer, "You must need another hole in that head of yours!"

When he tried to strike me again with the palm blade, I pushed myself off of him, letting the hand fly in front of my face before grabbing him by the wrist, snapping it with a flick of mine. He roared angrily, and I glared down at him, "What, no laughs left?"

"I'm going to kill you, you Bat-brat!" he screamed driving the palm blade into my chest, the body armor keeping me from the piercing wound he intended to deliver. When he withdrew the bent piece of steel, he looked at it in wonderment. Jumping to my feet, I didn't allow him to wallow in confusion for long as I grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and tossed him into a stack of black garbage bags.

For Cassandra.

Rising from the rubbish, he took a step forwards, his balance seemingly off. I took it for a performance and attempted to put him back down with a trio of batarangs, each landing near the wounds Dick had dealt to his arm a week earlier. He managed to stay on his feet but doubled over, his laughs once more lost to his pain.

For Dick and Will.

I spun around twice to build enough momentum to double kick him, once to the head and then in the abdomen, after which he fell to the ground while coughing and clutching his stomach.

For Jim and Mo. And baby Sarah.

With him curled up and moaning on the ground, I closed in, noticing too late that he had reached for his ankle just before he fired a small, silver pistol at me. Six bullets whizzed by me, one catching my left cheek before leaving a hot searing flash of pain behind. As he clicked the trigger fruitlessly, his broken face turned serious while he watched me walking towards him.

"Uh, think I made him angry, sweetie…"

"You hit your head hard enough to start talking to yourself?"

His laughter returned as he slowly sat up, ripping the batarangs from the flesh of his forearm. "Oh, that's a good one, kid… good one… No, no… I was talking to her."

I heard the footfalls and the heavy breaths of another woman who had no business being out at night, carrying on the duty ordered by her idol. Rather than let Harley hit me with whatever she was carrying, I turned to face her as I threw a bolo, ensnaring her as she tripped over her own, fevered feet. She swore as she hit the pavement, landing in a puddle of unknown and undesirable street liquid. Her presence hadn't been a surprise on any level as she was only there to be a decoy, same as every other encounter with him.

"Where's the gun, Harley?" the Joker snapped at her, still sitting on the cold pavement.

She rolled over onto her back, fighting the cable wrapped around her torso, "I knew I forgot something…"

Where she had intended to be a distraction for me, Harley had ended up distracting the Joker. My face was bleeding nearly as profusely as his throat and as angry as he was at her, I was ten times more with him. With his anger at me slightly deterred by his fury towards her febrile forgetfulness, I took a moment to watch, waiting for his next err.

He growled while getting back to his feet, "How many times can I be embarrassed in one night…" he gingerly touched his face before continuing, "Let's say we reschedule, kid."

Flexing my gloved fists, I scowled, "I'm not a kid."

The Joker snickered, nodding as he replied, "Sure… keep telling yourself that.. Some day it might even be---."

He didn't get the chance to finish. In a single, swift motion, I had grabbed him by his broken wrist while firing a grapple to the rooftop of the nearest building. He screamed as we ascended, his sinewy body pulling at the shattered carpal bones as they crunched in my grasp. Where I was certain to land on my feet upon reaching the roof, I made sure he landed on his face.

For Jason.

Without hesitating, I slammed my reinforced boot heel down on the small of his back.

For Barbara.

I proceed to fall to my knees, driving them down on his kidneys.

For Dad and Dana.

The heel of my hand crashed into the base of his skull.

For Bruce.

Rising to my feet again, he slowly rolled onto his back, his breaths coming in ragged pants, "Slow down, kid… night's still young," before his words gave way to wet giggles.

It was then, as I watched him bleed before me, that I realized he had called Dick by his name when they had faced off, yet he kept calling me nicknames rather than the one my parents had given me…

_Tim… Tim are you there…_

"You don't know who I am, do you?" I asked softly.

Despite his broken state, he roared, "Bruce Wayne is Batman! You're nothing but a sidekick playing dress-up!"

Once, I would have believed him, my spirit broken by the destruction I had allowed him to carry out. But I had been wrong, and so had he. I leaned over, grabbing him once more by his stained shirt, pulling his face mere inches from mine, "No… he's not. Bruce Wayne just got attacked by some two-bit thief in Crime Alley. And I'm here, to bring that thief in."

The Joker's gaze narrowed, "Two-bit thief… is that what I am?"

"No," I sneered, "You're right… You're not even that. Not anymore."

He spat blood in my face before growling, "You don't know anything… You'll never be as good as him… Never."

_You're better than me, Tim…_

"Keep telling yourself that," I growled, "Someday it might even be true. But not today."

An ambulance siren rang out down the street, momentarily stealing my attention. When I didn't say anything, he grinned up at me weakly, "You want to be Batsy, kid… Think of what I did to him… To all of them… what I'll keep doing… Only one way… to stop me. Go on… do it. Kill me. Or this will ever end…"

_I love you, son…_

My Family was three members less than it had been at the start of the year.

My colleagues bore fresh scars dealt by his gun and his cruelty.

My mentor was dying on the same street his parents had.

He would never stop.

I had no choice.

For Bruce…

As I stood upright, I brought him with me, holding his limp form in the air, "Old jokers never die… they just get discarded."

He laughed, long and hard.

And then all was quiet.

^V^

As the clock turned to a little after eleven, I sighed to myself quietly, "Eleven-eleven, make a wish."

I hadn't seen a living human being since Dick had dropped by briefly to wash and change in order to meet Mattie and Selina at the hospital. When he had arrived, Ace in tow, I had tried to limit my barrage of questions to the most important, namely those about Bruce and the Joker.

For the second time that evening, I watched as he dressed frantically in our bedroom. Although rather than the worried determination he had shown earlier, his face was wrought with a defeated look. He tried once to lie about Bruce's condition but, as I had since he had been a prepubescent, I saw right through it.

Donning his sling once more, Dick had sighed, his voice barely above a woeful whisper, "I don't think he's going to make it."

I lied to both of us, "He's been through worse."

"Yeah… twenty years ago," Dick had pointed out a fact I had no desire to face, "A lot changes in twenty years."

"His stubbornness against giving up will never change," I had offered.

Dick had said nothing more save for, "I'm going to stay at the hospital until he's," he paused, stopping himself from being a pessimist again, "… until he's out of surgery."

Alone, with the exception to the three dogs lying about the floor, I tried to raise Tim on the comm. link for the millionth time. Again, no response. No homing signal. Nothing. It had been nearly two hours since dick had left for the hospital, calling twice what littler information he had learned. I had relayed the message to the Watchtower so that Clark would be able to tell Alfred.

I had thought about calling up again when a communication window opened on my monitor, Superman's voice greeting me, "Barbara? May we come in?"

"We?" I asked, using the numerous motion sensors and cameras placed in and around the Clocktower to search for him.

He responded just as I found him hovering above the building, out of sight of the policeman down below, "Alfred left me in charge of two very sleepy boys who wanted nothing more than to come home."

I heard Nathan call out, "I'm not sleepy, let's fly over the river."

After deactivating the lock on the rooftop entrance, I told him to come on down. Rather than wait amongst my binary companions, I left the back room and made my way back into the apartment. Even though it had been nearly twelve hours since I had seen my little boy, enough had happened to make it seem like days. Just as I opened the front door, he had arrived with Ethan slumbering in his arms and Nathan zooming around, pretending he was still flying.

It was going to be hell putting him back to bed,

"I figured there's no place like home," Superman smiled as he carefully set Ethan into my arms.

Once I had kissed his pudgy cheek, I looked up, "Thank you… I think I needed this. Please, come on in."

"Uh… for a minute," he stepped in, shutting the door behind him, "Any word? From anyone?"

I gave him a look that said I would answer him once we were out of the young ears in the apartment. Before going in to the nursery to put Ethan down, I told Nathan, "Why don't you pick a movie out, I'll get some blankets and we can have a slumber party in the living room."

Nathan, who had been leaping from one piece of furniture to the next, jumped to the ground and took off to the big bookshelf holding the vast collection of movies Dick had acquired over the years. Thankfully, the bottom shelves accessible by the younger members of the Family were PG-13 and under. Following me down the hall, Superman waited while I settled Ethan into his crib before turning on the nightlight and shutting the door.

He looked at me expectantly and I answered, "Tim's been out of radio contact since I spoke with him after he came back from the Watchtower. Dick said he went after the Joker after what happened in Crime Alley but there hasn't been a single word, from Tim or over the police scanners."

Pausing briefly, he then asked, "And Bruce?"

Regrettably, where I had no answers for his first inquiry, had too many for his second. I settled back into the chair before responding, "There's a compound fracture of the left leg, they don't know if they can save it… there was a severe torsion in the diaphragm, which lead to organs passing through… they were still trying to reverse it last time Selina checked in."

"At least that's the worst of it."

"It's not, Clark. He has a basilar skull fracture… add any brain damage from that to the multiple times he lost a pulse…"

Although hesitant, he replied, "Nothing he hasn't overcome before."

Instantly knowing that he was referring to when Bruce had fallen to Henri Pasquale's gunfire, I shook my head, "He had frontal lobe brain damage then... Memory loss, incoordination… Now it will be basic life functions… along with his vision, hearing. That is if he even---."

Ever the optimist he cut me off, "I have never given up on Bruce… I'm not going to start now, Barbara."

He left after that, taking a moment to say good-bye to Nathan in the living room. Before joining my six-year-old brother-in-law, I chose to return to the back room, hoping Tim had made contact. Finding that he hadn't, I grabbing a portable Oracom handheld device and turned to leave. My eyes caught the flash of a new communication window on one of my monitors, along with a motion sensor flag on the ground floor of the Clocktower. As I answered the call, I smiled to see Alfred and Mattie come on screen while crossing the lobby just as his voice greeted me over the speakers, "Ms. Barbara?"

"Here, Alfred."

"Might one inquire as if it the building is… shoot to kill, so to speak?"

I deactivated the system and set a timer for it to reactivate floor by floor while they would be traveling up in the elevator. Giving them the all clear, I made my way back to greet my second set of late night visitors, telling Nathan that Alfred was coming up and that he best stop using my living room furniture as launch pads.

"Shazam!" he called out before taking one last leap. Dick would have been proud at the air the boy got.

Opening the door, I watched silently as they passed through the door. While locking it, I surveyed their physical form which gave significant insight to their mental form. Alfred, the backbone of the Family since its inception, was doing a decent job of containing his justified fears. Mattie, on the other hand, appeared to still be in shock with glassy eyes and pale skin. I reached out to put a hand on her shoulder but when my fingers touched her, she practically jumped out of her skin.

"Mattie… if you want, you can go in my room and lay down for a bit?"

She looked to me, then Alfred, and finally nodded.

We watched on as she slowly walked down the hall before turning to the right and disappearing. Alfred chose to speak up first, "She hasn't said a word for the last hour."

Glancing up to him, I stated, "Dick had said she was upset…"

"On the contrary. She was doing fairly well when I arrived… upon going upstairs to the floor his surgery was being held on, I believe it finally settled in mind what had happened to him."

"Why then?"

He sighed before replying, "I had hoped that given the lack of police involvement in the situation that the press would have not yet have made an appearance…She had gone to purchase a water bottle from the vending machine down the hall from our sitting area and she was accosted by some devious woman, demanding to know about the incident and her father's condition."

"Asshole," I growled.

"Indeed… Ms. Selina, upon finding the scene, had said that along with a few other choice words… A call to headquarters sent several squads down to keep an eye on the floor and keep unwanted visitors at bay. Regrettably, the damage was done… Notably after they asked Miss Mattie if she was dealing with the emotional turmoil of the attack on both her eldest sibling and now her father."

After a moment, I nodded, "I'll stay here with her and the kids if you want to head back."

Alfred hesitated briefly, "I think I would take a moment before returning."

"Tea?"

"That would be lovely, my dear."

As he headed to the kitchen, I made my way to the den, smiling to see Nathan snoring in Dick's favorite arm chair. I took the afghan and spread it over him before turning off the lights, letting the room glow from the blue TV screen. While waiting for the kettle to boil, I tried to convince Alfred to eat something but he insisted he had been sated by his meal at the Watchtower.

The painful silence between us was broken when the palm version of the comm. link I had taken from my pocket at set on the table came to life, "Barbara?"

"Tim?" I called out, rushing to pick it up, "Where are you?"

"Here… Was going to come through the living room… Nathan's sleeping… they came home?"

I stammered as I made my way towards the back of the apartment, "Yes… Alfred's here too… Just… let me disarm the window down the hall."

His voice was soft as he answered, "Okay… I'll wait."

Something was very, very wrong. First, no media or police alarms had gone off on the Oracom unit, second Tim sounded twelve years young again and third… I was unable to shake the feeling in my gut that the reason for the first two had been because Tim had crossed the line. Deactivating the window lock long enough for him to step inside off of the ledge, I turned the corridor light on with a flick of a switch. Alfred had just stepped into view as well, gasping at the sight of Tim's bleeding and cowl free face.

"Alfred, there's a med and suture kit under my bathroom sink…" as he departed to retrieve it, I carefully moved closer to Tim as he stood motionlessly, "Tim?"

He looked down at me, offering a weak half-smile, "Where do you want me? Don't want to bleed all over…"

I lead the way to the kitchen after calling Alfred to join us. As he began cleaning the wounds on Tim's face, I tried to figure out the best way to ask what had happened. Alfred paused to allow Tim to remove his gloves, boots and cape, after which he had sighed, "That feels better."

"Tim… where have you been?"

"Crime Alley," he responded quickly before asking, "Think I can borrow some of Dick's clothes, I want to go to the hospital to see how he's doing."

"Where's… Cass?"

"Home to change… I had Kelsey pull off the details on our houses… should be all clear now."

I nodded, "Of course… Tim… I have to ask---."

He nodded slightly as Alfred began injecting lidocaine into his ragged cheek, "Right, the Joker. Kelsey and I agreed to keep things quiet for now… don't need a press frenzying about it."

"About what?"

"About him having a stroke."

"A what?" I asked, losing my cool.

Tim explained, "I had him… And… I wanted to cross that line but I couldn't… I knew Bruce would never forgive me," he glanced at me from across the table, "Even after Bruce had hurt him, he was still going strong… stronger than I've ever seen him. I mean, muscle wise. It's like he's been juicing up on anabolic steroids or something… for him to hurt Bruce that badly... that easily…"

Alfred cleared his throat before saying, "Do hold still, sir…"

"Sorry," Tim held his head straight and continued, "He was ripped. Injection marks all up his arms. Bobo had drug possession with the intent to sell charges eight times on his records… He was more than just hired muscle."

"Well, then what happened?"

"He had a stroke. I… I said something, I meant to aggravate him and he literally laughed to himself until…"

I was quick to ask, "Where is he?"

Alfred had finished suturing the smaller of the two cuts on his face, although he was muttering about the need for internal stitches on the cheek. After a beat, Tim answered, "I called Kelsey… we had him med-evacced to the stroke center in NYC."

"Are you sure that's what happened?" I asked, knowing the Joker would go to any lengths to make an escape, "He could have been faking..."

Tim nodded before Alfred set a hand on his brow to still it, "Yeah… I mean… it's pretty hard to fake unilateral paralysis and having one eye fixed and dilated. I drew blood from him, hit the Sat-Cave before coming here… I forwarded the results to you when they were ready."

Using the handheld, I accessed the incoming file folder and sure enough the metabolic and chemistries for the Joker's blood had come back, thanks to advanced medical instrumentation "borrowed" from Wayne Tech. I read the results aloud, "Virtually nothing on the lipid panel, insulin is through the roof, as is testosterone and estradiol…"

Tim didn't kill the Joker.

The Joker nearly killed himself.

"Worst part… paralysis set in when he was still smiling," Tim commented, "If he lives, he'll spend the rest of his days with a grin on his face. Tongue hanging out and drooling, but still smiling."

After a quiet moment, Alfred said, "Master Tim, I'm afraid this secondary wound is tremendously beyond my grasp… A plastic surgeon will need to tend to it as to not leave scarring."

Tim shook his head, reaching up to touch the deep laceration that traveled the side of his face, "No. Just stitch it. I want to remember that as being the last time he hurt anyone."

^V^

Despite the fact that it was midnight, the fourth floor of Mercy General was alive with activity. Phones ringing, doctors being paged over the loudspeakers, nurses bustling to and from their station to recovery rooms. Not to mention the surgical resident that came out and updated us twice on their progress with Bruce. I had heard the word hopeful too many times in his explanations to actually feel the emotion itself.

Had it not been for the searing pain in my left shoulder, I would have joined Tim after Bruce had been securely loaded on the ambulance. I had forced my desires to step aside to common sense, knowing I had been far from capable of dueling with the Joker the way Bruce would have wanted me to.

_Whether I live or not…_

I had been sitting in an uncomfortable waiting room chair, fighting of sleep brought on by exhaustion and painkillers. It had been stupid to make such a hasty escape from the Clocktower, of which included the Range Rover's loss to the light pole. After the second update on Bruce, I had walked Alfred and Mattie down to the ground floor, using the trip to check into the ER to have my shoulder looked at. Having been a recent customer, I was sent directly up to orthopedics for the on-call doctor to have a look-see. Although nothing had appeared to be torn, there was considerable muscle strains and bruising that had irritated the recently reattached nerves and connective tissue.

He loaded me up on vicodin and told me to be at his office at eight the next morning for an MRI.

Returning to the waiting area Selina and I had been stationed at, she had glanced up at me, "Get lost?"

"No… just… needed to walk around, clear my head."

She had then patted the seat next to her. After I had asked if they had come out again, she had nodded, "I needed to sign another consent form."

"For what?"

"Removing his spleen and gall bladder. They said it would make correcting the diaphragmatic hernia easier…"

"More room," I had chided sadly.

As the drugs kicked in, I had found myself replaying the night's horrific events over and over, trying to find justification in bringing a gun to Crime Alley, let alone withdrawing it. Thankfully, Bruce had been too busy dying to have seen it, but everyone else had a perfect view. Having used lethal force once in my career as an officer of the law, I had sworn never to do so again. Not for Bruce but for myself. Cass had made a similar vow upon taking her first and last life as a child.

And yet there I was, aiming a gun at the Joker's head…

"Dick?"

I jerked awake, looking to Selina as she directed my gaze towards the elevators where Tim was stepping off. I rose to my feet slowly, as did Selina. Completely transfixed on the calm look on his face. His right cheek was bandaged but other than that, he seemed to have survived his latest encounter with the Joker.

As much as I hated myself for thinking it, I hoped to God that meant the Joker hadn't.

"Tim?" I asked as he closed the distance between us with long strides.

He nodded, "Hey… any word?"

Selina went to respond but I cut in, "You're just going to show up here… and… and not even… Tim, where the hell have you been:? What happened out there?"

Selina then spoke, "Dick, please…"

"No," I shot her a look quickly, "I want some answers… you quit, long enough for Bruce to nearly die and then you just so happen to change your mind?"

No matter what, stick to the plan. Tim will come back…

"Dick, that's enough!" Selina growled while grabbing my arm. I spun to snap something at her but the angered pain in her green eyes and furrowed brow told me to keep my mouth shut. With my undivided attention, she proceeded, "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go check on Bruce."

We watched as she approached the nurse's station, quickly conning one to take her towards the surgical bays, hearing the nurse say. "You can look through the viewing room where our students usually observe…"

When they had disappeared through a pair of double doors, I spoke without looking at him. "I'm an ass."

"No… you're a dick."

Slowly, I turned to him, "Don't make me hit you," I pointed to his guaze covered cheek.

"Right side of my face, you'd have to hit me with your left…. Oh wait," he grinned.

"Now who's the dick?"

"Ass," he bantered back.

We hadn't enjoyed each other's company since March, no playful banter, no brotherly sparring, not even a conversation that wasn't about finding the Joker. I had forgotten how good it felt.

"What the hell happened?" I asked again, this time dropping the snarl from my voice.

He took Selina's chair and waited for me to take a seat as well before answering, "Not the grand finale we had been expecting… I pursued him down to Claymont Avenue… we beat the crap out of each other for a bit, Harley even showed up but she could barely stand… apparently she was supposed to bring him a Glock and she forgot it."

"Ouch," I remarked, trying to picture the Joker's rage at his number one fan.

"Yeah, well that angered him enough to let his emotions get the best of him. Caught him off guard, finally got the physical upper hand. When he realized it, he tried to play the mental games," he looked down at his feet, "That I would never been good enough, that I would never be like Bruce… that he would never stop, that I had to kill him to end it."

He paused, leaving me holding my breath.

"I… I wanted to. But I couldn't. I… I let him have a taste of his own medicine… said that Old Jokers never die," his eyes found mine, "That they just get discarded."

My lips twitched, Bruce would have been damn proud.

Tim smirked as well, "Imdprov but it worked. He laughed… he laughed so hard that he gave himself a stroke."

"You're kidding me?"

Tim shook his head, "No… I tested his blood, positive for steroids. He's obviously more heavily muscled that he should be for a man his age, especially one who spent ten years flat on his back. He must have been making up for lost time… trying to prepare to take Bruce down."

"That's insane… never mind… It's the Joker, of course it's insane. What happened, is he…?"

Tim shook his head, "No, he's only dead on the inside… had him air lifted to a stroke center in New York. Harley is already back in Arkham, although their medical ward until she her infection is under control. Case closed."

"How is that possible?" I asked, "All of this, all of the things he's done… this year and before… how did it come to him winning?

He responded, "No... I don't think he won."

I countered, "But he did. He's… he's ruined all of our lives… killed all of those people…"

Tim explained. "He wanted Batman to kill him… or at least try so that he could prove whatever sick, twisted point he wanted to make."

"Just because you didn't kill him, doesn't mean he didn't win, Tim."

"No… He wanted Bruce to kill him… He didn't care about me. He didn't even care enough to figure out who I really was… right up until the end… He refused to acknowledge that I was Batman. To him, I'm just Robin in a bat suit."

I smirked again, "And getting trounced by Robin never played well for his ego."

After a moment, he asked, "So… before I was so rudely interrupted, how's Bruce?"

I leaned back in the chair again, the aching in my shoulder barely touched by the painkillers, "So far, so good… They have a handle on the diaphragmatic hernia… had to removed his spleen and gall bladder. The cranial fracture… there isn't much they can do. The bleeding in his brain is minimal so they're trying a course of steroids to control inflammation, then if necessary, drilling to tap it of pressure… When he's out of surgery their going to do a MRI to get a better idea of the brain damage…"

"Brain damage? Not just a concussion?" Tim asked softly.

I glanced over to him and nodded, "He was without a pulse for an accumulated ten minutes in less than an hour. That, plus the damage he's probably suffered to the cranial nerves…" Tim' looked down again as I finished, "But we'll cross that bridge when we get to it… The orthopedic surgeon says the leg is repairable but it will never be one hundred percent."

"Too bad Bruce doesn't accept anything less than that…" Tim sighed, taking it all in. After watching the activity around us for a few minutes, he finally asked, "What was Bruce's plan?"

I answered him frankly, "Essentially…. What happened tonight was the plan, we just hadn't intended it to happen so soon. He wanted the Joker to hurt him so that you would be the last stand against him… I don't think he intended on getting hurt this much but… it worked. You came back, you took the Joker down by the rules…"

"That's a stupid plan."

I smirked, "I know, that's what I said. Even had Cassandra not been shot, he intended to have her involved as a pair of eyes to watch his back, to help keep him from getting killed if at all possible."

"But Cass was looking for Mattie."

"That… was not part of the plan… Although, maybe it was and Bruce just didn't tell me."

"What part could that have been?"

Shrugging, I suggested, "To show her this isn't a game. That even the best can fall."

He reiterated, "Could have just showed her a video or something…"

"Yeah, but it's always best to learn from simulated or even real life experiences."

We chatted for another two hours, replaying the last few days and trying to make sense of it all. The Joker's grievous error of taking Harley to the Clinic, his sole human act in the last few months, had been the turning point of a downward spiral for both sides of the feud. We had then focused once more on the last twelve hours of our lives, trying to put all the puzzle pieces together. Cass knocking him out, Mattie escaping, Bruce falling, the Joker stroking out…

An eventful day, to say the least. An eventful year, at that.

With Selina in the observation room, no one came out to update us on Bruce's condition and as much as I wanted to ask, or rather demand, to know what was going on, I stayed put. If something happened, good or bad, Selina would surely appear. That and my feet were numb from sitting and my chest and shoulder were still reeling, making unnecessary movement out of the question.

"Clark brought the boys home," Tim finally said, "I… I don't think they told them anything."

"Probably for the best," I replied, trying to stay seated as opposed to racing home to see my little monster. "Someone should get a good night's sleep. Alfred took Mattie there a little while ago."

"Yeah," he touched his bandage cheek, "I saw him, not… the Huntress."

"Is that what she's calling herself?"

He answered, "She certainly looks the part, doesn't she?"

Thinking back to when she and Batgirl had appeared in Crime alley, I suddenly realized how right Tim was. The black suit with purple accents, the tortured look on her face… save for the cowl and missing crossbow she fit the bill just fine. Someone had to.

"I can't believe it," Tim said quietly.

"I know. I mean we used to kid about her becoming a vigilante but now that---."

Shaking his head, Tim rose to his feet, eyes glued towards the elevators, "No… it's… Shondra?"

I rose as well, finding Alfred stepping off of the elevator with an older, trim black woman. I had heard stories of the woman who had once mended Bruce's broken back but had never had the pleasure of meeting her. Tim had spoken fondly of her years earlier, saying how important she had been to Bruce as well as his own father's well-being. As they spotted us, Alfred nodded and began to walk towards us.

The last I had heard, she had been emotionally and mentally reduced to being a child.

Dr. Kinsolving was quick to greet Tim with a warm embrace, "Tim, I'm so sorry to hear about your father and Dana."

He kissed her cheek, "Thank you… It's good to see you, even under these circumstances."

Upon releasing him, she nodded, "I agree." When she looked to me, she nodded again, "You must be Dick."

"Guilty," I offered my right hand as her eyes glazed over the left resting in its sling.

"I must admit, I've nearly come to Gotham a number of times in the last few weeks after seeing all of the horrible things on the news… But every time, I somehow talked myself out of it."

The last time she had been involved with the Family, she had been kidnapped by her own brother and nearly killed. More than enough of a reason to stay away.

"Are you… I mean, I knew you had recovered, but are you practicing medicine again?" Tim asked.

"In Boston… ICU work mainly. Painful, but rewarding when it pays off," she looked to Alfred briefly before explaining, "Alfred called… told me what happened… and… my fears be damned, I couldn't possibly stay away. I'm going to speak with his surgeons now, oversee the rest of their efforts before taking over."

"Shondra… I---," Tim started to say.

"Wayne Enterprises' company card has put me up in the hotel down the street interminably. I'm not leaving here until Bruce does. That's that," she paused to look at Alfred once more, "Shall we?"

"After you, Dr. Kinsolving."

As they walked away, I heard her scoff him, "Please, at least call me Shondra."

When they were out of sight, Tim said, "Alfred… he puts me to shame in the sneaky department."

"Let's test that theory," I countered, walking after them. Tim followed me without hesitation, muttering something under his breath about getting yelled at by someone in pink smocks. I assured him, "I'm pretty sure Bruce has ten things in this hospital named after his family, I think we can at least visit one of them." Thankfully, the staff of the Thomas Wayne Trauma Surgical wing were busy with performing their duties as oppose to yelling at two bandaged figures walking down the corridor. A door up ahead just closed and we approached it, reading the etched letters: Trauma 6 Observation. Through the glass door, we saw both Alfred and Selina staring through the widow before them.

I carefully opened the door, drawing both of their gazes as we entered. Without a word, they returned to studying the operation taking place. I chose to stand beside Selina while Tim took a post to the left side of Alfred. Much like when Alfred and I had observed Bruce's knee replacements nearly six years earlier, we all watched silently.

At least a dozen, sterile, blue gowned and masked figures were in the room, each performing their own duties flawlessly. Two surgeons were wrist deep into Bruce's torso while another pair were hard at work on his left leg. Shondra, bearing the cleanest set of scrubs entered the operating room, conversing with the surgeons working on Bruce's abdomen briefly. With no audio and their faces covered, it was difficult to see how they were receiving their guest.

I knew the Family saw it as a blessing, and surely Bruce would as well.

If he woke up...

^V^


	18. Now And Then: XVIII

Title: Now And Then: XVIII

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The war has been won but the battle isn't over.

Rating: T

Infringement: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: If you can get through all of the sad things in this chapter, there's a happy treat at the very end!

^V^

"- to report that the Joker has been deemed stable by his primary physician for relocation back to the Virginia State Maximum Correctional facility, joining thirty-six inmates currently being held in chemically induced vegetative states as a means of confinement. Shortly after the Joker's escape, all inmates in similar sentences were relocated back to this facility from peripheral locations that had been certified throughout the nation. Even though the Joker himself is in a natural coma as a result of the stroke he endured during apprehension late Monday night, officials claim they intend to sedate him as if he were-."

Someone changed the channel on the flat screen televisions that were littered throughout the Mercy General cafeteria. Although it was another early morning news program, it wasn't of the Joker's return to life imprisonment.

"- Wayne is still listed in critical condition after three days in the ICU of Mercy General Hospital. His primary physician, Dr. Shondra Kinsolving, is expected to make a public statement this afternoon, of which News Channel 7 will surely be there to cover it live. Owner of Wayne Enterprises and chairman to the Wayne Foundation, the forty-nine year-old philanthropist and his thirteen year-old daughter were attacked late Monday evening while visiting Crime Alley in honor of the late Dr. Thomas Wayne's birthday. Although his daughter, Mattie, was unharmed, Wayne suffered a number of grievous injuries from an unidentified assailant. Since he was admitted to Mercy General immediately following the incident, he has been listed in critical condition after numerous surgeries to correct severe thoracic, abdominal and cranial injuries. Bruce Wayne's immediate family members have yet to comment on either his prognosis, of which includes Wayne's adopted son and one of the Joker's recent victims, former Bludhaven Police Detective Richard Grayson. News Correspondent Amy Fuller has a story coming up later this hour…"

It was quarter passed seven in the morning on the last Thursday of April.

After pulling some strings to have their autopsies rushed, Tim had managed to arrange for Jack and Dana's services to be held that weekend.

Sometime before Saturday, I had to go shopping for a dress seeing how I had thrown away the one I had worn to Helena's funeral.

Death was the last thing I wanted to think about…

Tim and I had finished patrols at just after five, the night seemingly far too easy without the pressure to find the Joker on our shoulders. After stopping at the Sat-Cave briefly, we had trekked back to the townhouse to shower and change before feeding and loving on Robbie. When he was sated, we lured him into his crate with a peanut butter stuffed Kong toy and left for what had become our morning ritual.

Namely, going to the hospital, eating breakfast in the cafeteria and waiting for visiting hours to start.

After three days, Bruce had yet to wake following his initial eight hour surgery Monday night. Not three hours after he had come out of surgery, he had gone right back in, the surgeons forced to drill into his skull to help drain excess fluid accumulating from the skull fracture. His EEG had fluctuated for the first twenty-four hours, stricken wit with petit mal seizures every few hours. Thankfully, his EKG had remained steady, with no further sighs of tachycardia. Dr. Shondra had explained that his heart had been weakened by the multiple bouts of cardiac arrest he had endured but that it wasn't to an extent that he would need a transplant. Once he recovered from his current condition, she wanted him to under surgery to remove weakened tissue of one of his ventricles and to tighten up a valve.

When he recovered, she always said, when not if.

With the cranial pressure under control, they had begun to wean him off of the respirator. In the last twenty-four hours, they had reached a level when he was able to breath comfortably on his own for up to two hours. I couldn't help but think that had been what instigated him waking from the coma after getting shot by Pasqualle.

I could only hope the same would happen again.

"You going to eat that?" I asked as I tapped my fork on Tim's plate.

Tim, who had been staring at his partially eaten cheese omelet, wheat toast and sausage links for the last ten minutes shook his head. I stole a slice of toast and a sausage before going back for a few forkfuls of his eggs. I had already had a heaping of hash browns, bacon and "fresh" fruit salad but after missing my late night snack, I was famished.

Although he had managed to return to the mantle and subdue the Joker without killing him, he had yet to bounce back to his usual self. Then again, catching the Joker wouldn't bring Jack and Dana Drake back to life and it wouldn't undue what Bruce had suffered. Jack and Dana's bodies were due to be released and transported to the funeral home in the southern most borough of Charon. He had already secured times for the calling hours Saturday and the funeral and reception on Sunday. The reception itself was fairly ands-free, as it was being hosted at the Drake residence, fully catered and organized by a professional.

Where Tim's responsibilities ended by nightfall, Batman's began. After capturing the Joker, he had called Kelsey in and a small team from special crimes along with a single ambulance. Kelsey had been shocked to see it was Tim and not Bruce, instantly asking where the latter was. Ignoring her questions had proved futile as she began yelling at him about flipping back and forth and pushing the limit to their alliance. Tim had finally admitted that he was the only Batman she needed to worry about messing up her life.

Thankfully, I had been able to convince him to let me join his efforts, promising not to get shot in the head again.

I stole the last triangle of toast from his plate and one of the jelly packets from his tray, and he interjected, "I was going to eat that…"

"Snooze you lose," I remarked, taking a big bite.

He smirked and stole my carton of orange juice, draining it down his throat before I could stop him. We began to retaliate fruitlessly, stealing from each other's trays as opposed to simply eating our own meals. Tragically enough, it had been the most fun we had with one another in weeks.

I was about to stab the last sausage link when I heard, "For crying out loud, get a room, already."

Glancing up, I spotted him just leaving the cashier, carrying a tray with his right hand. Although it hadn't been an open topic of conversation, it was well known among the adults of the Family that he had injured his left shoulder while rushing to help Bruce in Crime Alley. There had been a silver lining…

A second before driving into a light pole, Dick had swerved to miss a stray kitten racing across the street. The same kitten had sauntered into Crime Alley just before the medics and police had arrived on the scene. It had boldly approached Mattie as she knelt beside her father and then walked off. Later that night, before making my way to the hospital, I had returned to the scene to observe forensics teams hard at work. Sure enough, the same black kitten was wandering about.

Three strikes, it had to be fate.

Bathed, vaccinated and neutered, he was the new nameless figure in the Family. Mattie had decided to leave it unnamed, declaring her father would name it when he woke up. Although Selina had yet to leave the hospital, Alfred had moved the children and Ace into the Penthouse, along with "Kitten". Also, Selina had decided to pull the kids from school until things had settled down again. Worst case scenario, they would finish out the school year with Alfred, leaving Mattie to take a number of finals at school come June.

Worst case scenario, missing school would be the last thing on their minds…

Dick continued as he approached, "Fighting over cafeteria food, seriously guys… that's crossing a line." He set his tray down on the table before grabbing a chair from an adjacent table.

Once he was seated, Tim said, "Didn't think you were coming in this early."

"Couldn't sleep," Dick said before stuffing a French toast stick in his mouth. Lucky for him, Alfred was still at the Penthouse,

"Ethan?" I asked.

He shook his head, swallowing before answering, "No… Just excited I guess."

"Excited?" Tim inquired, making another attempt at eating.

Dick nodded, "They're going to try for three hours this morning. Figured I could watch the Today Show with him, see if he can figure out where in the world Matt Lauer is."

Over the last few weeks, Dick had grown increasingly pessimistic, contrary to his usual hopeful nature. It was understandable considering all he had personally faced as well as what his Family and friends had. Even still, seeing him defeated and without that unique light in his eyes had been unnerving. Finally, it was back, as was his smile and infamous quips.

If anything would bring him back, it would be Dick's sheer will.

Tim sat back in the plastic chair, "Selina upstairs?"

Dick nodded, answering after he down one of the three half-pints of whole milk, "Yeah, I was going to bring her up something… but I figured they still have to do morning meds, bandage changes… And if I'm up there again before eight, that Nurse Nazi is going to have me kicked out."

"That's because you tried bribing her," Tim remarked.

"Willful suggestion with viable remuneration," Dick corrected him quietly.

I smirked, all too happy to see their playful banter back in full form.

"Was Barbara coming this morning?" I asked, considering stealing a French toast stick. They hadn't been out when Tim and I had gone down the line.

Dick shook his head, mouthful. After wiping his mouth with a paper napkin, he explained, "This afternoon. Going to switch Ethan duty… Although I think I got the worst shift, trying to get him to settle down for a nap…"

"Well, to be fair, he started his week in outer space, hard to come back home after that," Tim commented.

"Yeah, right… poor Al has got his hands full with Ethan, I bet."

Tim cleared his throat, "I… actually had someone help out with that…"

"What, Z brainwashed him? Bruce is going to love that," Dick countered.

"No… J'onn actually put a… little, harmless mental block on him… until he's older. Figured he was exposed to way too much way too soon… That and Alfred wanted him to stop trying to jump over the kitchen table, pretending he was leaping tall buildings in a single bound…"

"For Nate's own good, then," Dick nodded.

Tim smirked, "But mostly Alfred's."

We managed to chat for another forty minutes before rising from the table. Tim took our dirtied trays and dishware to the garbage and I offered to grab Selina some coffee and breakfast, nudging Dick's left side to make my offer valid. He agreed, only if he could pay. As he offered the cashier his card, he added, "On second thought, dozen assorted pastries to go."

Together, the three of us rode up in an elevator car along with four others, each weary looking in wrinkled, soiled smocks. Our day was just beginning while theirs was hopefully coming to an end. Getting off on the fifth floor for ICU, we approached the nurse's station. Tim, carrying the large white box of breakfast treats, offered the _viable remuneration, _of which was well received. I stood back, listening as Dick complained that his bribes had yet to work, leaving Tim to explain, "All about the charm."

"I'll charm you later," Dick grunted in defeat.

As I glanced passed the desk and towards Bruce's door, room five-ten, I smiled to see Dr. Shondra stepping into the hall. She looked as tired as those we had just encountered, but the tireless kindness in her eyes made up for it. I had not spent much alone time with her in the last three days but I had been impressed with how she worked with Bruce and interacted with the Family. If Alfred approved, so did I.

"Good morning," she greeted us while approaching, "Ah, breakfast. You read my mind."

"No better way to start the day than with a Danish," Dick declared.

"A Danish…" she paused, "And digital responses."

"What?" Tim asked.

"I was testing his reflexes late last night, after he had been off of the respirator for an hour and a half… His reflexes were considerably stronger in the hands and feet than they heave been in the last forty-eight hours, especially in the left. Digital pulse is improving in that ankle now that the swelling around the knee is diminishing. I want to do some muscle stimulation this afternoon, see if we can improve the blood flow to the knee… without the diuretics."

"That's… great… right?" Tim asked.

"It's more than great, Tim," she assured him, "The brain damage that came up on the MRI suggests to be minimal and the swelling is reducing… Ocular responses are improving… Looks like he's not wasting anytime with this…"

She lead us to the room, of which had become a second home to all of us. Flowers, cards, personal items that had slowly begun to accumulate… still didn't make it any less of an ICU room. Selina was in the same chair she had been in since early Tuesday morning, holding onto Bruce's cold, limp hand. She rose to her feet as I handed her coffee and the small white bag containing a blueberry muffin and egg whites and cheese on an English muffin.

Dr. Shondra continued to rehash the previous night's progression, her voice happy and yet calm. She and Dick were very much alike, seeing the best in things.

Looking down at the bandaged body on the gurney, lifeless save for the blips of machines and pumping of oxygen, I thought once more how much I was like Bruce.

Expect the unexpected, but above all else, expect the worst.

^V^

I hadn't looked at my father's face since Monday night. In fact I couldn't look at his face, I could barely summon the courage to even glance towards his gurney. The rest of the Family had spent the first day in near shock, trying to come to terms with what had transpired. By the second day, the mood had lightened, everyone starting to relax, Dick and Tim seemingly already back to their old selves. The third day, I had even caught them joking around, talking to my comatose father as if he was going to respond.

It wasn't right.

Sitting at the high counter of the penthouse kitchen, I slowly diced potatoes to go along with the piles of peppers, onions and tomatoes I had already chopped. Alfred was standing beside me, whisking eggs and milk while deftly adding the perfect amount of salt, pepper and crumbled feta cheese. Visiting hours didn't start until half past eight and seeing how Alfred and I had been getting up around six, we had more than enough time to kill in the kitchen.

"Your father's favorite," he said softly.

"What?" I asked, glancing up at him.

Alfred nodded, "The bistro omelet… your father's favorite."

I tried to smile but my lip was trembling too much. I could barely keep myself from crying every time I walked through the hospital lobby let alone whenever I talked about him in the present tense. Alfred, who had his own room in the penthouse, had set up two of the guest rooms for myself and Nathan. Where my brother and his canine companion had stayed in their room, I found myself unable to sleep in mine. With my mother at the hospital, I spent the last three nights crying myself to sleep in the master bedroom, hugging one of my father's shirts while Taffy and Kitten kept me company.

Setting the knife down, I bit down on my lower lip. I looked everywhere I could in the open kitchen, even trying to focus on a traffic chopper hovering down the street from Wayne Tower. My eyes found my Dad's cell phone charger on the far counter, his pair of broken sunglasses sitting nearby and the piece du resistance had been the fact that I chose to make his favorite breakfast…

I had to be strong, I had to be brave, a hero couldn't be a big crybaby…

My eyes found Alfred's reassuring smile, but it didn't help keep the tears from suddenly rolling down my cheeks. "My dear child," he said softly before embracing me. I let the sobs rise from my body as his hands gently rubbed my back while his quiet words attempted to soothe my troubles. Alfred always had a way of making everything better but I wasn't sure if his magic was strong enough.

When I finally caught my breath, I had run out of tears and somehow had taken to sitting on the stool behind me. Alfred fetched a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped my face dry, "Terrible thing, dicing onions. They can be overwhelming at times."

I laughed, fighting back sniffles, "Yeah… they can be."

"You, my dear, have been a very brave young woman these last few days… weeks… months… But very much like your father, you feel that you must be brave every hour… minute… second. As I have told him for the last forty years… one can not be brave without allowing oneself to be scared."

I took a deep breath and made my confession aloud for the first time, "It's all my fault, Alfred. If I hadn't escaped the Watchtower… Cass would have been there, she could have helped save him… And he wouldn't be-."

Setting his hands on my shoulders, I looked straight into Alfred's eyes, "Mattie… Your leaving the Watchtower had no impact on what happened. It was coincidence that brought the Joker and your father into each others' lives and it was fate that brought them back together… The only reason your father donned that cowl once more, was to make an attempt at ending things, once and for all… In a way… your father did just that, albeit at an incalculable cost."

Even though I hadn't had physical contact with him since the ambulance ride from Crime Alley, I suddenly felt my father's hand twitch in mine.

Alfred continued, "Now… rather than holding back so many tears, might one suggest letting them escape more often… it's best we not flood the kitchen."

I smiled again, for his sake.

We finished making breakfast in near silence, although I kept feeling his silent gazes encouraging me to pour my heart out. But like he had always said, I was very much like my father. At twenty after seven, I heard toenails on the dark hardwood floors, right along with socked feet shuffling. Nathan yawned as he entered the kitchen, carrying his sneakers in one hand and Ace's leash in the other.

"Good morning, Master Nathan, are we ready for our morning walk?"

My little brother yawned again and nodded. Apparently, he was still asleep seeing how he had changed into wind pants and a tee shirt, both of which were on backwards. Alfred looked to me, "If you would keep an eye on the-."

I nodded, "No problem."

Within minutes, the omelet was done and I served it on three plates before making a batch of biscuits , knowing their morning walks took nearly twenty minutes. Upon returning, they would be hot and fresh from the oven. Setting the places at the counter as opposed to the dining room table, I put milk into a carafe and also poured a glass of white grape juice for myself.

As they baked, I sat on the counter, sipping juice and thumbing through numbers on my cell phone. My friends were all on their way to school, dreading a Thursday geography quiz in Mr. Callahan's class. I would have given anything for the fill in the blank quiz as my biggest concern for the day as opposed to forcing myself too look at my father's still face. Before I returned it to my pocket, a window came up on the display and I smiled to see it was a text from Terry: what's cooking good looking?

We had talked at least a hundred times that week, mainly him wanting to make sure I was okay. He had a dentist appointment that morning and rather than going back to school, his father was going to bring him down to the hospital for the day. It had been a surprise to both us seeing how Professor Miller was adamant that his son's studies came before anything else. Apparently, I was the exception to the rule.

I called him and smiled when he answered after half of a ring, "Hey."

"Hey," I replied.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just making breakfast… then we're going to the hospital."

Terry paused, "Cool… So... My appointment is cancelled… my dad wanted to know if I could come over earlier?"

"Sure!" I said, a little too excited. Taking a moment, I continued, "I mean, that's fine."

"Good.. So, we just like… go to the hospital?"

I told him to meet me a little before eight-thirty in the lobby, next to the Coke machine on the right. He agreed, promising to buy me a Cherry Coke if he was late. Rather than talk on the phone, we decided to cut it short and said good-bye. What I wanted to say to him wasn't exactly cell phone appropriate… not like I was going to actually say what I wanted to…

With some time to spare, I then called my mother's phone, knowing she was already awake and sitting with Dad. She answered on the third ring, "Morning, kiddo."

"Hey…" I hesitated before telling her the news, deciding to first ask, "How's Dad?"

"Good… Just finished getting a shave… looks less like a silver back gorilla." Despite the joke, there was no humor in her voice. As bad as it was for the rest of us to see him like that, it was literally killing my mother…

"I bet… so Terry is going to come for the whole day, his appointment was cancelled."

"Oh… that's great, kiddo…" she paused and then said, "Well, make sure you bring new movies, I think we've watched all of the ones that are here."

"Okay. Any requests?"

"Anything," she sounded distracted.

"That narrows it down," I said softly before adding, "Well, Nathan and Alfred are walking Ace, then we're going to eat… but we'll be there soon."

"Okay… we'll see you then."

_We'll_ see you, not _I'll _see you_…_

By the time I said good-bye to her, Alfred and Nathan had returned, Ace joyfully trotting around the open rooms, refreshed from his morning stroll. Upon seeing my smiling face, Alfred was quick to inquire, "I take it the omelet was a success?"

"It was," I nodded before climbing up on a stool.

Breakfast soon blended into cleaning up which faded to packing backpacks for the day and leaving the penthouse. Leaving Ace and Kitten to their own devices, Alfred, Nathan and I rode down in the private elevator car to the ground floor. It was eight in the morning and the lobby was already bustling with people arriving, chatting and impatiently waiting for a ride up to their offices.

On the way out, we passed a large vigil that had been set up in honor of my father, featuring flowers, candles, photographs and signs wishing him well. I kept my eyes straight ahead but Nathan commented, "Look, more roses, Alfred."

After parking in the garage adjacent to the hospital, I led the way as Alfred and Nathan walked side by side. I heard Nathan taking awkward steps so he could make his backpack flap on his shoulders. Throwing an annoyed look back at him, Nathan stuck his tongue out and arching his dark eyebrows. I sighed and proceeded to ignore him.

Terry was coming and I wasn't about to let my little brother ruin my day.

J'onn, the first green giant I had seen in real life, had dropped by to have a talk with Nathan about what had happened over the last few days. He had instantly reverted back to his usual, crazy self, only not talking nonstop about superheroes and saving the world. Tim had been quick to explain that J'onn had hypnotized him into temporarily forgetting a few things seeing how young he was.

It made sense, but I had secretly wished J'onn had made me forget what I had seen…

Entering the lobby, I looked to my right and grinned at the sight of Terry looking around the busy area, searching for me. Rather than sneak up on him, I called out his name before running over. He was able to take two steps forward before I reached him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

He kissed my cheek, "On time… no Cherry Coke for you."

"Shut up," I fought back tears by burying my face into the front of his hooded sweatshirt.

"Okay."

After a moment, I released him but quickly took his hand into mine. Alfred, who had been standing nearby, smiled at us, "Master Terrance… Miss Mattie, shall we?"

"Let's," I answered.

Surprisingly, we had an elevator all to ourselves as we made the trek upstairs. Stepping off onto the recently mopped floor, Alfred and Nathan turned towards ICU while Terry and I stayed put. When Alfred glanced back and asked if we were coming, I said, "I want to show him where everything is… so he knows."

"Very well… but do keep from straying far."

When they were out of sight, I led Terry in the opposite direction, walking quietly hand in hand, aimlessly down the corridor. After we had passed the oncology recovery wing, he asked, "You don't want to go see your dad?" I shook my head and he proceeded to ask, "Why?"

Rather than remain silent, I simply let my thoughts slip out, "Because it's hard to see him like that… and… everyone thinks he's just going to wake up and everything is going back to normal, but it won't."

"He needs you, Mattie, you can't think like that… you-."

Letting go of his hand, I snapped, "I can… Terry, I was there… I saw him when he was… when his heart…"

I took Alfred's advice and let the tears flow. Since he was with my Family, Terry stepped in to embrace me, to rub my back gently and whisper soothing words in my ear.

He then said, "I could touch your boob… that would wake your dad up."

I laughed through the tears, still pressing my face into his chest.

"Or you could wear a mini-skirt. Or come camping with me next weekend…

"Stop it," I pleaded.

"Okay… But, first, you have to stop this… You can't give up on him, Mattie. Not now."

I stepped back and he let his arms fall to his sides, but I didn't answer him.

In fact, I didn't say anything until I had led him to my father's bedside and said, "Hey, Dad… Terry's here… He wants to know if I can go camping with him."

The still, bruised face didn't flinch.

"And share a tent," Terry added.

There was a heartbeat that struck on the cardiogram, quicker than those before it and those that came after.

Mom smiled, "I think that he said yes."

My father's hand twitched as his heart rate went up by two beats per minute.

"Yes, that's definitely a yes," Mom smiled.

It had never felt so good to laugh.

^V^

For months, I had been battling nightmares of Helena Bertinelli reaching out to me from the grave, pushing me onwards despite my failures. More often than not, I woke in a cold sweat, gasping for air and trying to convince myself it had just been a dream. I hadn't slept since Monday, which was a blessing in disguise seeing how I had new images stored away in my subconscious.

Sleep was often my best time to process events, but I wasn't prepared to accept all that had happened in the last week. Finding Dad and Dana murdered in cold blood. Surrendering the cowl after coming to terms with my lack of worth. Cassandra leaving me at the Watchtower to join Bruce's suicide mission against the Joker. My colleagues letting a thirteen year old girl out of their guard, of which I had yet to interrogate her about. Retaking the mantle I still thought myself unworthy of. Bruce suffering the worst injuries he had seen in decades as a result of his doomed mission. Taking the Joker and Harley down on my own, walking away with blood on my face as opposed to my hands.

His laughter echoing in my ears…

"Tim?" Cool fingers gently touched my cheek.

In high school after a long week of patrols, I had practically sleepwalked through an afternoon field trip of a guided cave tour.

"Tim?" The same fingers clamped down on my nose.

In college, I had slept through my sophomore year's Quad Day, passing out on the lawn long enough to be stricken with a vicious sunburn.

"Wakey wakey…"

I hadn't slept in days. I hadn't slept soundly in months. Hell, I hadn't slept right since I took the cowl from Bruce.

The sudden lack of oxygen forced me to sit up quickly in the chair, causing Cass to release her grasp on my nose while laughing softly. Looking to my left, I spotted Bruce still motionless on the gurney. I cleared my throat before rubbing my face trying to wipe away the fog. "What time is it?" I asked, instinctively lowering my voice even though I knew it wouldn't bother the resting figure in the room.

"Twelve-thirty. Everyone left for lunch, told them we'd stay and watch him."

"Watch him?" I asked as my eyes went to Bruce again, although without the fog of sleep obscuring my vision.

A smile came over my lips to see him laying there, just as he was when I had drifted off shortly after nine that morning, although without the respirator pumping in oxygen and drawing out carbon dioxide.

"This whole time?" I asked, rising to my feet, putting my hand on the bedrail. I had watched Shondra extubate him at nine that morning, observing him along with the head of paleontology. His autonomic responses had instantly taken over, putting his respiratory rate within normal range. The diaphragmatic hernia he had endured had been reversed through surgery and so far the repairs had held. Nothing like having half of your digestive organs sucked up into your chest cavity…

Shortly after, I had taken a seat in one of the chairs positioned about the room, unable to battle my exhaustion any longer. It wasn't so much the physical toll, but the mental variety. Despite the fact that the Joker was safely locked away, I was still on edge, still wary. It would be a long, long time before I was able to relax…

In three days, the swollen bruising around his eyes had diminished considerably, but had grown to a dark shade of charcoal. A direct result of the basilar skull fracture, Shondra expected the bruising to be completely gone within two weeks, especially if he wore the ice pack blindfold at least four times a day. I had visited once to see him wearing it and had sad smile on my face seeing him wearing a purple one. Selina had commented that she was letting him borrow hers for the time being…

Much like the laceration on my own face, those that racked his form were barely beginning to heal, still pink and tender. He had a series of jagged lacerations on his sides that had taken a combined eighty-seven stitches to repair. Shondra had suggested skin graphs but we all had decided Bruce would rather wear his scars proudly. A clean-shaven face made him slightly more human looking, but the unnatural pallor of skin had the opposite effect.

Nevertheless, the sight of only the oxygen cannula under his nose brought a grin to my lips.

Cass took to standing beside me, "Yeah… oxygen level is fine… as long as he doesn't tire out… keep him off it."

As she leaned against me, I felt her hand settle on mine but I never took my eyes off of his face. After three days, he had been taken off of the respirator and promptly woke from the bullet induced coma. Sure, he had suffered significant frontal lobe trauma and battled with amnesia for nearly a year, but he had come back to us.

History always seemed to find a way of repeating itself, I thought to myself.

"Hungry, I'll go get something?" she asked.

"No… I can wait until we head home."

"But…" she started.

"When they get back… I have a few things I have to take care of for this weekend. That, and I need to sleep in something a bit more comfortable than that chair."

"Like a bed?"

"A bed... What's that?" I joked.

We looked down at him for a bit longer before I finally yawned loud enough worthy of sitting back down. Cass chose to sit on my lap as opposed to using the chair adjacent to me. After I looped an arm around her waist, she reclined into me, resting her chin on my head, "What do you have to do?"

I paused to reference my mental list before replying, "Well… I have to go to the funeral home and sign the paperwork, write him a check… then I have to go to the florist and order displays for the services… The life insurance guy hasn't called me back, but I called and had Dad's lawyer hound him down…"

"Tim…" she said softly.

Ignoring her, I continued, "I was supposed to go talk to the priest at St. Cahterine's, Dana grew up going there… But I called him yesterday and left a message, said I really didn't care what passages he read…"

"Tim."

"And then I probably should go up and walk through the house, get the personal stuff cleaned up before the cleaning service comes tomorrow and then the caterers on Sunday..."

She took my face into her hands and kissed me, knowing that if she hadn't I wouldn't have listened to her. Rather than withdraw, I gave in. When Cass eventually pulled away, she pressed her forehead against mine, "Tim."

"I know… relax. It's going to be okay."

"I wasn't going to say that… I was going to say… you don't have to do it alone."

I smiled, "I know…"

Cass was about to respond but was interrupted by Dick walking into the ICU room, "Get a room, jeesh."

I leaned forward to see him approaching with a plastic cup of iced coffee, "I think we're in a room."

"No, this is Bruce's… and just because his eyes are closed, doesn't mean he doesn't know what's going on."

Cass rose to her feet before deftly taking the drink from Dick just as he moved to put the straw to his lips. When he went to retaliate, she arched a brow at him and said, "Mine now."

"Cootie queen," he snarled.

"Lint licker," she retorted.

"Children, please," Barbara bemoaned as she entered the room, Ethan on her lap. I rose to my feet as well, looking to the door expecting to see the rest of the Family enter. She noticed and explained, "Selina fell asleep at lunch… Alfred finally convinced her to go home and rest."

"Good," I commented. As drained as I felt, I knew Selina must have felt ten times worse.

"Yeah… Speaking of which, how's Sleeping Beauty?" Barbara asked.

Our attention shifted in unison to the gurney. I said, "So far so good… when was Shondra coming back?"

Barbara checked the white erase board next to the closet of a bathroom, "Says one-fifteen. They're going to pull blood, ultrasounds… schedule for a SPECT scan at five."

"Not an MRI?" Cass asked.

Barbara nodded as she made her way around the end of the gurney, settling on the far side. Her eyes went to the EEG readout before words came from her lips, "There's still swelling… it's the only reason he's not waking up… autonomic responses are improving which means the swelling is lessening, but it's still pressing on the brain stem… SPECT scan will track blood flow in the brain… look for irregularities… they might have to take a different approach from just the steroids and anti-inflammatory meds."

"Like what?" I found myself asking before glancing down at Bruce's face, "Another surgery?"

"Possibly… if there was trauma that diffused through the brain, Shondra said the cranial ventricles and blood vessels may have been altered, which would hinder his regaining consciousness."

Like Bruce, Barbara knew everything.

I was mentally preparing myself to postpone my To Do list until the next morning when Cass turned to me, "Well... We should go… Get things done… come back after the scan."

"No, I think you should-," I started to say. She sipped the coffee and shook her head, not saying another word. It was the only peaceful warning she would give me. I relented, "Fine… we'll be back after five… but call me if anything comes up."

"Of course," Barbara said as she helped Ethan to the ground. He toddled over to his father before turning around to latch onto the gurney.

I glanced down at Bruce once more, "We'll be back later, okay?"

He exhaled softly.

As we rode down in the elevator, I tried to steal her ill-gotten iced coffee but naturally she had emptied it. "Stop in the lobby?" she offered. When I shook my head, Cass shrugged, "Your loss."

That morning, when I had been walking Robbie, I had run into a nameless neighbor of ours and she had said, "I'm so sorry for your loss." For a moment, I had been taken aback enough to forget exactly what I had lost namely because I hadn't lost Dad and Dana. They had been taken from me, taken from the same mad man that had nearly killed another member of my Family.

The threat was gone but the damage was done.

The remainder of my walk had been calming for Robbie but only brought me mental turmoil. What had started as thinking of all the things I hadn't done in the past quickly turned to what I had intended to do but could no longer. I had a birthday gift for Dana in my study, wrapped and ready on the bookshelf. I had promised my dad to help him fix the speakers that summer on the rear terrace so they could listen to music by the pool. We were going to host Thanksgiving at the townhouse with Dana offering to help cook to show off her newfound skills.

I hadn't told them that we were getting married…

I felt fingers gently touch my shoulder, "Tim?"

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

It was then that I realized we already in the car and I was sitting behind a steering wheel I had no idea I was gripping. The ignition was running and apparently I had paused long enough to draw concern from her. Nodding my head, I answered, "Yeah… Florist is a few blocks from here. Hit them on the way. When I looked to her, I realized it was more than simple concern, she was practically terrified. "What? What's wrong?"

"Tim… you're crying."

My gaze directed itself on its own to the rearview mirror only to find tears coating my cheeks.

^V^

Selina had returned from her brief trip to the penthouse after Shondra had dropped in with Bruce's blood workup for the day. Showered and dressed in clean jeans and a fitted shirt, Selina looked ready for a day on the town not sitting at her husband's bedside. She had seemed well-rested although I doubted she had slept more than thirty minutes. I was quick to ask where the kids were and Selina answered, "Everyone fell asleep on me… Alfred said he'd bring them by later after dinner."

"Well, you could have stayed if you wanted to sleep some more," Barbara offered, "I could have texted you the blood work and scan results." With our son passed out on the cot beside her, bearing headphones playing his favorite songs, there was no need to speak in hushed whispers.

Selina smiled down at him before taking her chair on the far side of the gurney, her hand quickly finding Bruce's, "Nah… hit the coffee shop downstairs… Five Hour Energy on the elevator… should be good now. How has he been?"

"Good," Barbara said, "Some more intermittent movement. Stats have been great. Shondra was actually just here a minute ago… Blood oxygen levels are a little low, culture from the abdominocentisis came back clean… Shondra was actually just running to see if we could bump his scan up to do it now."

"Oh?" Selina asked, "Why's that?"

"Early bird catches the worm," Shondra said as she stepped into the room.

When I had discovered Shondra was going to be taking over Bruce's medical care, I had assumed he'd be up and walking in no time. Regrettably, whatever she had been capable of before in the manner of medical magic, she no was no longer. Nevertheless, she had been at Bruce's side just as much as the rest of the Family, getting him from barely functioning on life support to breathing on his own in three days.

Perhaps it was science… with a dash of miracle.

"We've bumped up the SPECT scan… they'll be coming to get him in a few minutes," Shondra continued, "With his autonomic functions still being carried out, hopefully we can pinpoint where the blood supply is failing to reach the specific region of the brainstem."

Selina spoke up, "And what if you find something… Surgery again?"

Shondra replied, "If we need to go in, it would be to alter the blood vessels to encourage proper circulation. The corticosteroids are working at maintaining the swelling but the lack of circulation is what is most likely keeping him from being perceptive and reactive… keeping him comatose."

As if on cue, Bruce's hand twitched. The longer he spent off of the respirator, the more frequent his unconscious movements had been. The first day, he hadn't so much as flinched and the second he had basically only responded to physical stimulated reflexes. Over the course of the day, he had shown a number of twitches, head jerks and even moans. The progression was a good indication he was on his way to opening his eyes and responding the verbal cues.

"Isn't there anything else we could try, before going back under the knife? I mean, he's doing so well, considering… Wouldn't surgery set him back?" I asked.

"Surgery would be our last option. We can try another course of blood thinners in addition norepinephrine to help stimulate circulation as well as maintaining the corticosteroids to battle inflammation. I want to see if we can precisely identify what's wrong before we flood him with any more pharmaceuticals. The loss of his spleen takes away another line of defense of blood filtering…. Realistically, surgery may be safer."

Barbara then asked, "And if there isn't a problem with the circulation?"

Something crossed over Shondra's face before she replied, "Let's tackle one hurdle at a time."

"What else could it be though?" Selina demanded.

Shondra responded, "The transesophageal echo we did yesterday afternoon showed the right ventricle's atrophy was worse than we saw on the regular echocardiogram on Monday… The tricuspid valve has tightened back up, but the right ventricle is still having difficulty pumping blood to his lungs. Blood can't get there, blood can't get oxygenated, so whatever blood does make it to the brain isn't worthwhile."

I sighed heavily, waiting for someone else to speak up. When no one did, I cleared my throat, "So… the trauma from the repeat cardiac arrests needs to be fixed… I thought we were going to wait, until he recovered more?"

"I hope we still can, Dick. I sent the footage of both cardiograms to the head of cardio diagnostics at the Cleveland Clinic in Ohio. He is due to call me back in an hour or so. If he needs surgery, we'll fly him in, he's the best at what he does."

There was a long minute of silence in the room.

Shondra then added, "Like I said, one hurdle at a time."

My cell phone chirped and I retrieved it to find an alarm was ringing. "Shit," I muttered under my breath.

"What?" Barbara asked.

Returning the phone to my pocket, "Late for my appointment upstairs…" I glanced over the room before saying, "I should be back in an hour… To be continued?"

Shondra nodded.

Just as I stepped into the hall, two smock garbed orderlies and a doctor were approaching. Even without Alfred's ever watchful gaze on me, I held the door open for them before proceeding to the elevator. I rode up with a large group of people, eager interns, nurses, annoyed doctors. The sole patient in the elevator car felt out of place until a woman touched my right arm, "Mr. Grayson?"

I turned around to see a petite brunette in pink scrubs, her fair skin touched with a hint of sunburn. It had gorgeous out the last few days but I had only seen the blue, sunny skies through window panes. She had been one of my nurses in my pos-operative care although I was able to remember she was the mother of two and was big into playing tennis, I had no clue what her name was.

As I smiled at her, she filled in the blank, "Shanna… I was your nurse in recovery."

"Of course, how are you doing?" Barbara had ruefully joked that the young woman gave me sponge baths with a smile when I was half out of my mind on pain killers.

"Great, more importantly, how are you doing? I saw you name on the board for Dr. Yeoung."

"Oh… I was actually in a little bit of a car accident Monday night… seat belt got me pretty good," I pulled back my shirt collar to show the dark bruising that disappeared under bandages. The elevator doors opened and we walked down the hall together, "Had an MRI yesterday, replaced a few stitches… Wanted to go over things again. Mainly how I'm not supposed to get into car accidents."

She laughed as we reached the nurse's station, "Well, duh…" Shanna glanced over the various white boards scheduling medication, evaluations, appointments and even rotations. Nodding, she continued, "Well, looks like you're all set in Room Three… come on."

I spent the next hour painfully unwrapping my arm, having it probed and prodded before having drainage tubes extracted and then more painfully, being wrapped back up. Dr. Yeoung had little sympathy for my condition, especially since he had emphasized before I had left that I was to lay in bed or in a chair and not get into any trouble for at least a month. Apparently removing my stability wraps and sling and driving madly through the East End of Gotham was on the No-No list.

As I slipped off of the examination table, Dr. Yeoung said, "Well, you are a very lucky man, Dick."

"I try," I smirked.

"I want you back here next week. And the week after."

"And the week after… yeah, I know. Not super trustworthy."

He nodded, finally allowing himself to relax, "That… and as a means of punishment for misbehaving… Also, with the drainage tubes out, you're set to start therapy."

"But, my immobilization period is until-."

He shook his head, "I know… this will be more along the lines of preventing as much atrophy as possible. Electronic stimulation, hydrotherapy, ultrasongraphy… When the immobilization period ends, on schedule pending any further incidents, you'll have a better chance at recovery."

"So, no additional surgery?"

"MRI was clean save from some inflammation, but that was only of your ego. Pending your MRI in two months… you may very well be back on track sooner than any of us could have expected."

"All right… same time next week, Doc?"

"And no sooner," he reached for the door handle but hesitated, "I'm sorry… about…. Bruce. Terrible how this city preys on those who try to help it. Hope everything turns out for the best."

When he finally opened the door, we passed through before I replied, "Thanks… so far it's looking up… off the respirator, now we just need to get him to flash some baby blue eyes." We paused at the nurse's station and I smiled at Shanna, "Pencil me in for next Thursday."

Dr. Yeoung spoke, "It's amazing what the body can endure. What it can survive. I was in traumatic surgery for years in Philadelphia."

"Why did you switch to orthopedics?"

He shrugged, "You can make a joint fit back together, but when there are too many missing pieces… sometimes you just can't finish the entire puzzle."

Truer words, Dr. Yeoung…

Reaching the elevator, I decided to head down to the cafeteria and load up on snacks for the room. After having a brown paper bag filled with muffins, scones, sandwiches, apples and oranges, I had a liter container of coffee filled before realizing I would have to carry it all upstairs. Instead of lessening my order, I added cookies and order of cheese fries. I gave the cashier a hundred for my forty-eight dollar total and nodded to the tip jar when she offered me the change, "Hands full, sorry."

Riding up, my cell phone chirped and I carefully set the bag and coffee down in order to answer by the fifth ring, "Babs, how did it go?"

She sighed, "Okay… Um, the scan went fine, some pinched vessels but they decided to stick to drugs before opening him up again. They were going to give him the first round after getting him settled into his room but…"

"But what?" I said, doing nothing to hide my concern.

"He had another seizure. Petite mal and then a grand mal ten minutes later. Cranial pressure spiked…"

"An aneurysm?"

"No," she assured me, "But they took him to surgery… they needed to relieve the pressure immediately after the second seizure… the stress of being off the respirator, and being moved into scanning and the tests and… It was just too much for him and… they said he's going to have to go back on the respirator, afterwards… that there might be more damage to the brainstem and…"

"Well, if they take away the pressure, then he'll come off it again," the elevator doors opened and I held the phone against my ear with my right shoulder so I could grab my bounty, "It's just a setback."

"It's not a setback, Dick. We're right where we started… his EEG hasn't been that low since he lost his heartbeat in the ER," her voice was breakign with emotion.

"He was doing better," I countered, walking briskly down the hall to Bruce's room, "He _is _doing better. Shondra said we just need to fix him step by step and then everything will work out… Babs?"

Turning the corner, I paused to see Barbara in the hallway, waiting outside of the room. She hung up and shook her head, "Dick…"

I set the bag and carton down before kneeling in front of her, my right hand wiping tears from her cheeks, "It's going to be fine."

… _whether I live or not…_

"If you're so sure… then why did you sign his will?"

I tried not to think of that horrible morning at Wayne Manor as I replied, "Expect the unexpected. That and he told me to... I wasn't about to get my ass whooped for not writing my name."

She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around me tightly. Even though my shoulder protested, I leaned into her, offering whatever physical and emotional support I could. After a beat, I said, "He just wants to get out of having to wear that World's Best Grandpa hat… We'll have to get him something even gaudier for when he wakes up."

She laughed and sobbed with each breath.

When Barbara had regained her ever stoic composure, I asked, "Where is everyone?"

"Ethan is still in there sleeping… Selina went with him to surgery… I called Alfred, he's keeping the kids there until we find out what's going on…"

"Tim and Cass aren't back yet?"

She shook her head, "He had to take of things for this weekend."

I motioned for her to wait for me as I rose to my feet, grabbing the coffee and snacks. After setting them on the counter of Bruce's room, I carefully picked up Ethan and returned to the hall. With his chin resting on my shoulder, I could barely make out the song on his headphones.

I kissed his temple and whispered softly, "Up came the sun and dried up all the rain, and the eensy weensy spider climbed up the spout again."

^V^

I was the rock.

For nearly five decades. I had always been a near constant source of support to Master Bruce. When he chose to bring a young orphan home by the name of Richard John Grayson, I took it on myself to support the boy as well. When the young boy had turned to a young man, he had left, making a small crack in the armor of both myself and my eldest charge. To my surprise, Master Bruce had chosen to fill the fault with another young orphan, although upon his sudden departure, the crack had tripled in size. I had feared that he would never attempt to remedy the fault, and to my dismay I had been correct. That was until, literally, the boy next door had told him that had no other choice.

Somehow, from those three incidences, Master Bruce rapidly gone from brooding recluse to the head of a boisterous Family. It was never part of his original plan, namely because he feared the responsibility of having to face the war on crime with people who cared about him waiting at home. Logical to an extent, but I felt that because of his Family, he had become that much better of a hero, in and out of the mask.

However, the tables had turned. It was Master Bruce's peril that was breaking those around him. The brave fronts came on the moment any of them walked into the room and the forced smiles and casual conversations were in place to deplete the despair. Master Dick seemed to be the only one that remained truly optimistic, having seen Bruce fall far too many times only to rise up again.

Regrettably, that was then, and we were in the now.

A common theme for the numerous conversations I had held with Dr. Kinsolving and a number of other physicians had been Master Bruce's age. Yes, he was physically in top form, far better than most, but the fact that he had endured that much more in his lifetime made it a level playing field. What few male relatives he once had, a select few had live passed forty, many dying in accidents and war. Those that had made it beyond that point succumbed to the stressors of their lives, namely high blood pressure, diabetes and two of heart conditions. Even without any known heart troubles, were he a younger man, his heart wouldn't have suffered as it had.. The thoracic surgeon said weakened tissue of the diaphragm had resulted in the diaphragm, he assumed the patient's age had been the cause when surely it was the result of numerous wounds over the years.

Where Dr. Kinsolving had been able to heal with the touch of her fingers, she no longer bore the gift and was forced to rely on her profession, modern medicine and her colleagues.

I dreaded that it wouldn't be enough.

While I had been preparing to bring the children back to the hospital to visit with Master Bruce, I had received an urgent telephone call from Ms. Barbara. A sudden rise in cranial pressure had forced them to take him into surgery once more, again to drill and remove another piece of his skull in order to alleviate swelling. Given that I had just shared a delicious and delightful meal with Masters Nathan and Terrance as well as my sous chef, Miss Mattie, I opted to hold on telling them until I had been granted further news.

Stalling, I took them to an frozen yogurt parlor just north of Mid-Town where they hand crafted customized dishes using any type of cold treat and unlimited toppings. From there, Master Nathan and I walked his mighty beast, giving Miss Mattie and her beau unprecedented alone time. I had been tempted to secure Master Terrance in a bundling bag prior to leaving but was unable to find a needle and thread.

As we closed in the last block on the return trip to Wayne Tower, Master Nathan had rubbed the large dog's neck while he had asked, "Is Dad going to be okay, Alfred?"

Not wanting to lie, I had offered, "Dr. Kinsolving is doing her very best to see that he is."

He had sighed quietly before looking up to me, "What if he doesn't wake up?"

"Sir?"

Master Nathan sighed once more, "There were people down the hall from Dad's room… they had a party… I was walking by after going to get a root beer… I thought it was a birthday but it was an… an anniversary… five years that their dad had been in a coma… What if Dad's asleep that long?"

I had set a hand on his shoulder, encouraging him to stop and face me. As I had assured his elder sister earlier that morning, I had told him, "Hope is what your father needs, Master Nathan, hope, love and support… He needs you to be brave… your mother needs you to be brave… Fearing the worst will do nothing to help him."

He had remained silent until reaching the lobby doors, only then he had told Ace to wait while he pushed open the regular door to the left of the revolving one. Coincidentally enough, it had been the same revolving door his father had made a buffoon of himself when he had moved into the penthouse. As we rode back up in the elevator, Master Nathan had finally inquired, "Can we go see Dad now?"

"Shortly, sir… Very shortly."

Unlocking and entering the rarely used residence, I was pleased to find Miss Mattie and Master Terrance were not engaging in unsupervised sin but rather they had been sitting on the hardwood floor, throwing a small bell toy for the new kitten. Although I had spent a majority of my life in a residence without animals, the addition of Ms. Selina's kitten Isis and then Miss Mattie's colorful Taffy. What I had never expected was for a canine outweighing a majority of the household members to take up residence in the stately manor.

The latest furry companion had been a greater shock than the Schutzhund trained personal protection dog, namely because it had invited itself to the Family. When Master Bruce overcomes his current condition, he will be sorely surprised to become the owner of a stray, formidably feral street cat. Then again, I mused, after dueling with his wife for decades, it shouldn't be too much of a challenge…

"Hey, Alfred… are we leaving?" Miss Mattie asked without looking from the balck kitten's antics.

"Shortly, my dear… And Master Terrance, might one assume your father will be meeting us there?"

The young man rose to his feet, instinctively offering a hand to help Miss Mattie, "Yeah… figured it would be easier for him to get to than here… Let me go get my bag."

Miss Mattie followed him towards the den, "I'll help you."

I cleared my throat, "Miss Mattie, if I might ask for your assistance for a moment?"

She paused to look to her young beau who nodded in return, "It's okay, I'll just be a second."

After asking Master Nathan to make sure his canine companion had fresh water, I escorted Miss Mattie to the kitchen for a moment alone. As I retrieved a prepared plate for Ms. Selina, her daughter was quick to ask, "Did anyone call? Is he okay?"

While we had been walking the mighty Ace, Ms. Barbara had sent a message to my mobile device, informing me that Master Bruce was out of surgery and stable in the recovery unit. Along with the news of relief, came a list of vitals as well as updates on blood work and readings on the EEG and EKG. Given the emergent need for the surgery, his post-operative condition was far better than I had hoped.

I had made several phone calls to Leslie over the last three days, all of which had gone unanswered save for the last. Catching her just before dawn broke in Gotham, it was midday in Sierra Leone. I had been prepared to hear nothing but cold rings in my ear, but I had been shocked to hear her voice, "Hello?"

"Leslie?"

"Alfred… I…"

"No, please… I need you to listen to me…"

"I'm so sorry, Alfred, I've been trying to get in touch… there was a raid, and a fire… we haven't been able to back to the camp until today."

Letting my anger at her step aside to concern, I had asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yes… but… we lost eight nurses… Drs. Alpert and Hoebert… Thirty villagers… half of them children… God, Alfred… it was terrible…"

"But you are all right?" I had demanded once more.

"Yes… I'm fine.. I'm… they're closing the clinic… going to send the staff to the nearest DWB facility… Alfred… I'm coming home… My flight to Brussels leaves at four this afternoon…"

"Cancel it," I had interjected, "I'll have a private jet take you. No doubt there is one I can have sent-."

"Nonsense, Alfred… I'm sure you have better ways to spend your time…" when a silence feel briefly, she continued, "How is he?"

Since the remainder of the Family had not needed a summarization of Master Bruce's copious and grievous injuries, it had been far more difficult than I had anticipated to rehash them to her. I had started with the most threatening, the head injury, although there had been a three-way tie between the damage to his heart, the leg fractures and the diaphragmatic hernia. She had remained silent on the other end, only soft, forced breaths coming to my ears. After informing Leslie of his increased amount of time off of the ventilator, her breaths had turned to sobs.

"Leslie?"

"I'm… I'm a terrible person… How could I have… abandoned him?" she had managed through tears.

"Leslie… your presence here would have made no difference in his condition…" I had tried to assure her.

Her voice had quivered, "No… Alfred… I should have been there… to stop him…"

There had been no point in convincing her otherwise, so rather than further upset her, I had done what I could to comfort her from over a thousand miles away. Her second flight had been due to arrive in Gotham at a little after ten in the evening, of which I had promised to be there to receive her. I had yet to inform the Family of her impending return, but intended to do so at eh evening visit at the hospital. I planned to ask Ms. Barbara and Master Dick to take charge of the youngest Waynes for the evening, at least until after I was certain Leslie was safe and sound.

And preferably in my arms.

Miss Mattie's hand on my arm drew my attention, "Alfred? Is he okay?" The fear in her voice and eyes said I had paused far too long.

"He is in recovery and should be moved back to his room shortly… It was successful, they managed to reduce a significant amount of pressure… vitals are normal, brain activity is increasing-."

"Increasing?"

I hesitated before explaining myself, "The reason they decided to operate was due in part to a series of seizures… the inflammation as a result of the fracture was reducing proper circulation…"

"And decreasing brain activity," she said softly. The child was regrettably wise beyond her years. "Did… did they say anything about his heart."

"We'll mend his head first, my dear, then his heart."

The trip to the hospital was nearly silent, save for the single incidence where Master Nathan asked if we could get chocolate milk from the cafeteria upon arrival. I had declined, with remorse, and promised a cold glass when we returned to the penthouse later that evening.

Thankfully, I found a parking space for the town car relatively close to the main entrance. Stepping into the lobby that morning, Miss Mattie had been elated to find her beau waiting for her. As the day closed, her mood had dimmed as it was time to bid him farewell. Master Terrance's father, Dr. Miller, stood waiting near the vending machines and smiled as we approached, "Hey, ready to go, Terr?"

The young man nodded although his slack stance suggested otherwise. He turned to Miss Mattie and said, "I'll come tomorrow afternoon, okay? And this weekend."

She bit her lip, a trait she had taken from her elder brother, "Okay."

I pretended to avert my gaze as the young couple embraced, Master Terrance whispering something into her ear that made her laugh sadly. It was then I realized why it had been so difficult for myself and Ms. Selina to endure the last few days. Master Dick had his wife, Master Tim had Ms. Cassandra and Miss Mattie had her best friend. With her husband in a coma and my love across the Atlantic Ocean, we had been forced to face the impossible alone.

Hopefully, for the both of us, it wouldn't be for much longer.

Dr. Miller intervened, "All right… until tomorrow… Give your mom my best, Mattie."

She released his son and nodded before wiping at her face, "I will. Bye."

Master Terrance replied only with a silent wave before walking away with his father. Miss Mattie quickly looked up at me, "Ready?"

"Only if you are, my dear."

Having shown haste, Master Nathan reached the elevator bay first and declared victory while pushing the button. It was then I realized that the Family could be on one of two floors, forcing me to use the mobile telephone to contact Ms. Barbara. She answered after two rings, "Alfred?"

"Yes, Ms. Barbara… we have arrived at the hospital, might one inquire as to where Master Bruce is?"

"If you want to meet us at his room, we'll be there shortly, he's going to be transferred from recovery in about thirty minutes."

"Wonderful news," I replied as we stepped into the elevator, indicating to Master Nathan to press the number five, "And how is he fairing?"

"So far so good… Guess he just needed another hole in his head…" she joked weakly.

"There can never be enough… we shall see you shortly.'

As I returned the device to my pants pocket, Master Nathan commented, "I want a cell phone."

"You have one," Miss Mattie replied.

"Not a cool one…" he lamented.

I intervened with a curt cough. It worked for Master Bruce and needless to say, it worked equally as well for offspring.

Even though visiting hours had ended at six, we had been granted special privileges given Master Bruce's stature, that and there had been a limited number of other patients in the ICU. As long as we were discreet and relatively quiet, the Family was allowed to stay until eight as opposed to six in the evening. Entering Master Bruce's room, I was surprised to see only Master Dick and his young son toddling about.

"Hey," Master Dick greeted, "Look who's here, Egg-man…"

After being directed to look towards the door, the young child grinned before running towards me, "Alfie!"

Surviving the attack, I spoke, "I just spoke with Ms. Barbara… I take it Ms. Selina is with her?"

He nodded before encouraging Ethan to walk towards him, "Yeah… said they were on their way down a minute ago."

"And Master Tim and Miss Cassandra?"

Master Dick sat back in the chair as young Master Ethan crawled up onto his lap, "Um… Well, Tim was trying to get things in line for this weekend… Cass ended up going along as backup."

"This weekend?" Master Nathan asked as he approached the countertop where a number of his action figures and drawings had accumulated over the course of the week.

"Tim's parents… their funeral is this weekend, Nate."

The boy didn't reply until after he had retrieved a Superman toy, "Oh."

With all that was taking place at Mercy General, it should have been easy to forget what had transpired to cause Master Bruce's retaking of the mantle. I was reminded each and every time I saw the guilt in Master Tim's eyes, Master Dick's arm in its sling, Ms. Cassandra's bandaged head and the defeat that had sunken in to Ms. Barbara's entire being.

In fact, I was certain that none of us would ever forget.

^V^

Every hour that passed, I cursed myself for not saying good-bye to him.

In fact, the last thing I had told him was to shut up so that I could kiss him again…

He had contacted the children to say goodnight before he had headed to hunt down the Joker but he had not called me at the Clocktower. He had even spoken with Dick, Barbara and Cass while he had entered the city in a guise he had once forsaken to another. What had bothered me the most was the fact that the last voice he had heard had not been mine, but the Joker's.

Which was why I refused to leave his side, wanting to be the first person he saw when his eyes opened.

"Selina?" Shondra's voice sounded although it took me a moment to return my gaze to her face.

"Sorry," I squeezed Bruce's hand before clearing my throat. "You were saying?"

She proceeded, "So far, everything looks great… better than I had hoped. We'll wait until the morning to do another SEPCT scan and possibly an MRI… but the Eeg readout is hopeful."

"Great success," Dick muttered softly from the other side of the gurney. Barbara had left with the kids shortly after eight-thirty, to all of their strong protests. Mattie had wanted to spend the night seeing how they hadn't been able to stay all afternoon. Nathan wanted to stay so he could read to his father. Ethan wanted nothing aside from sitting on his father's lap.

Needless to say, after many tears, complaints, whines and pouted lips, the ICU wing was less three young, tired individuals, just in time for Shondra to arrive with bountiful medical jargon.

Alfred cleared his throat, holding a position at the foot of the bed, "Will we still be undertaking the blood thinner treatments?"

"At this time, no…" Shondra paused before explaining, "The specialist from the Cleveland clinic will be here by ten tomorrow morning, he feels that we may be able to remove the weakened part of the ventricle orthoscopically… reducing the risk of the procedure significantly. He suggested we maintain him as we have been, although we will be keeping him on the respirator for the time being."

Since Monday night, I had felt as if I was trapped in some horrible medical drama show, between the success and failure of treatments, imaging scans, near hourly injections, bandage and IV bag changes. I had seen him injured before, but he had always been conscious, complaining about being bedridden. When he had been shot by Pasqualle, Dick ahd lied to me, telling me Bruce had died while they had sat beside his comatose form.

I thought back to the previous Christmas, when everything had seemed to be going right for the Family for the first time in years. Bruce, ever the pessimist, had commented that everything happened in a series of three, referencing the fact that he had taken three bullets from Henri Pasqualle and had taken three days to wake from the coma they had caused. Hoping against medical fact, I had expected him to wake on the third day after falling to the hands of the Joker.

When the clock struck nine-thirty that night, shortly after Barbara and the kids had left, the fourth day had officially commenced.

As Shondra continued to explain what was to be expected over the next few days, and what other procedures may be needed, I began to zone out. My eyes fell back to Bruce's face, doing their best to ignore the large blue oxygen tube attached to the intubation head taped to his lips. I found his words surfacing from that cold, winter's night, his fears not for what had already happened, but for what had only happened twice in his life. The endless hours I had spent staring at him over the last few days, I had little else aside from pray for his eyes to open and thinking of what had only happened twice in his life.

The most applicable to his current state had been that he had returned to and fallen in the cowl twice before, after recovering from his fall to Bane and to Pasqualle.

And now to the Joker.

There were no cameras in Crime Alley and no visuals had been recorded by his cowl. Unfortunately, Bruce and the Joker had been the only two individuals who had knowledge as to what had transpired Monday night, both of whom were comatose. If I had my way, and if it wouldn't condemn me for all time, I would have rather had the Joker's head on a spike as opposed to being on a Tempur-pedic pillow in an institution…

Bruce's lips twitched suddenly and I couldn't help but smile.

Just before they had decided to put him under the knife again, the involuntary movements had all but ceased. After seeing them increase over the previous twenty-four hours, it had been nearly as disheartening as the decreased EEG activity and increased cranial pressure. The initial operation had involved the placement of a titanium wire mesh over reassembled bone fragments. Although he repairs had held through a number of seizures of varying intensity, a small pocket of fluid collecting in the membrane covering the brain had proceeded to hinder proper blood flow passed the brainstem. The second operation involved opening the dural sac, draining excessive fluids and then suturing it back up, leaving two drilled holes as drainage from his skull.

Again, a medical drama come to life.

I tuned back in just as Shondra said, "… we'll maintain the pressure with intravenous Mannitol… I wanted to avoid using it given that it can cause tachycardia as well as pulmonary effusion but at this point, it will do more good than harm. To counteract the side effects, I've already had them start him on Adenosine and Sotalol."

I heard Dick ask, "Will it be too much for him?"

"No… His liver enzymes and kidney function tests came back shortly after we took him into surgery and everything looks great. We'll be testing the panels every six hours to make sure his system isn't being inundated. As long as he can handle the course of drugs and the cranial pressure remains under control… he should be in the clear."

I suddenly found my voice, "Should be?"

"There's still a long road ahead for him… with the cranial pressure under control, we still have not only his heart but his leg to deal with. The repairs that ortho made are temporary…"

"I don't care about his leg," I blurted out, "When he wakes up… if he wakes up…" my lower lip began to trmeble at the mere notion of what I wanted to know, "What… what kind of brain damage are we going to be facing?"

It was subject that had been hinted at all week, but not one that had received a full on discussion. I was tired of letting my subconscious build up horrible scenarios and was finally ready to hear the truth, even if I wouldn't like what it was. Shondra nodded, still going as strong as the first day. She had been at the hospital nearly as much as I had, leaving Bruce's side only to hunt down tests results, to get consults nad to call her husband back in Boston. And yet she still bore the same determination and energy as when she had arrived. I wondered what her secret was, given that my last look in the mirror had caused me to wince in disgust.

"It's going to be difficult to say until he wakes up. Obviously, cranial nerves may be affected, specifically his hearing and balance, possibly his vision... Sensation of the face and mouth as well as control of facial expression may be hindered…"

Dick joked sadly, "Good thing he never smiled in the first place."

I knew he had meant to ease the pain of the news but I couldn't help but cringe, picturing Bruce's smile in my mind.

_Yes, dear…_

Shondra continued, "Very true… Now the hypoxia induced brain damage from the cardiac arrest and seizures will be another story. It's not as precisely located as the damage from the fracture. Diffused hypoxic brain damage can have a generalized mild effect on overall function to extreme changes in behavior, susceptibility to mental disorders and…"

"And what?"

"Worst case scenario, catatonia. He'll wake but he won't… be there."

_This may be it…_

_I'm not going to say good-bye to you, Bruce…_

With one hand on his, the other rose to touch his wedding band as it hung from my necklace.

There was a long moment of silence before Shondra said, "I… I had a young boy come into the ICU earlier this spring. He fell out of a second story window… broke nearly every bone in his body. I worked with him day and night and for three weeks he showed improvement. It was the first time in years that I wondered if I hadn't lost my ability to heal… then I realized it was stupid to think that I hadn't."

She hesitated before finishing, "And then I didn't see him for one day. I had to go to my niece's orchestral recital at the Boston Opera House. I had a page during the show but had ignored it. Turns out, that boy had developed an embolism… and that he had died. Medically speaking, even if I had gone into the hospital that day, he still would have had the clot and he still would have died… but I can't help but wonder…"

I looked to her, seeing doubt in her eyes for the first time.

"If I had gone in… just to hold his hand once… if there was enough left in me to save him. If… If there's enough to help Bruce…"

Alfred stepped forward, "My dear… what you have done for Master Bruce, now and then… has been than any of us can ever could ever have hoped for…."

I hadn't heard the name Dr. Shondra Kinsolving before Monday night. She had not only been Jack Drake's former miracle worker and physician, but also Bruce's. While I had been busy reaping the rewards of a Batman-free Gotham just after Bane had taken over the city, Bruce had been paralyzed from the waist down and battling for survival. The woman who had been waiting at his bedside at the time had been none other than Shondra.

Being a woman, it wasn't difficult to see the truth beyond the dedication of her efforts and the looks she directed at my pale husband's face. On the first night, we had been alone in the room with him and she had thanked me for giving Bruce a life she had never thought possible. I had asked her to explain and she had smiled, "The Bruce I knew didn't want to risk having a wife and children… I'm glad someone was able to knock some sense into him."

Aside from her professional relationship with my husband, Alfred had informed me of their brief romantic entanglement as well as his quest to hunt her and Jack Drake down after being kidnapped. In return for his valiant efforts, Shondra had healed Bruce's broken back in addition to a score of new injuries he had endured at her kidnapper's hands. He had saved her life, she had saved his… technically, they had been equal. Then, Alfred had informed me of the cost Shondra's last miracle had been and Bruce's efforts to help her following their return to the United States. Although her actually recovery had taken place a decade later, Shondra had still felt indebted to Bruce. I had smiled at the thought of it being an instance in which Bruce truly was the compassionate philanthropist for the sake of someone's well being as opposed to his public image.

The same smile gracing my lips as Bruce's lips twitched again.

"Well… I'm going to go find some coffee…" Dick rose from the chair slowly. I looked to him after realizing that Shondra had already left. As I searched the room to be sure, only to find Alfred gone as well. Dick clarified, "Oh, they left a few minutes ago…"

"Really?" I asked.

He nodded, "You were far, far away… Shondra is going to get some sleep in the doctor's lounge and Alfred went to the airport to get Leslie."

"Leslie?" I repeated, "She was coming home?"

He smirked softly, "Guess you missed that part of the conversation too… Listen, why don't you go to the Penthouse, I'll stay with him tonight."

I yawned before responding, "No… I… Since when was Leslie coming home? I thought she wasn't even taking Alfred's calls?"

"Well that was because the DWB unit was attacked… They are moving to a new site but Leslie decided it was a sign that no matter where she is, she can't save everyone… she might as well save the people she loves…. Hear that, Bruce, Leslie's coming back to kick your ass."

His splint yielding hand jerked.

Dick smirked before asking if I wanted anything from the cafeteria before it closed for the night. Alfred and the kids had brought me dinner but I had no desire to eat. I asked for a coffee and a diet Coke and he made a joke about double fisting so early on a Thursday night.

For the first time since seven that morning, I was alone with Bruce.

When he had been alone the previous few nights, I had talked his ear off, threatening, coddling and pleading for him to wake up. For the first time, I found that I had nothing to say and it left a cold flash of pain in my gut. Upon arriving at the hospital on Monday, I had been overloaded with waivers and release forms to sign, including one dictating the extent of medical care they were allowed to provide.

Shortly after Bruce had returned to the mantle, I had asked about my role as the medical proxy in the event Bruce was unable to decide for himself. When I had asked about his preferences, Bruce had shrugged and said, "I trust you to make the right choice."

"The right choice? That's awful vague, Bruce… what if you pissed me off before something happens to you? Hm?"

He had approached me, fresh from a post-patrol shower. After embracing me, he said without a doubt, "You'll still make the right choice."

"Will I? How can you be so sure?"

"Because no matter how much you hate me, you will always love me more."

Jackass.

I must have dozed off because when I woke, I had been slumped in the chair and startled by a loud noise. I glanced at my watch to see it was nearly two in the morning. As the noise continued, I glanced around to see coffee and a diet Coke sitting untouched on the stand next to me and that Dick was no where in sight. It took a moment for my exhausted mind to realize that the noise sounded an awful lot like coughing, even choking. I was still the only person in the room, who could have been…

"Bruce?" I called out upon seeing his eyes fluttering and his left hand clawing at his throat. I tried to pull his hand away but even in his condition he was infinitely stronger. Rising to my feet, I knew I should have pressed the call button or called for a nurse or anyone to help, but I still found myself with nothing to say. Despite the fact that a moment earlier he was still and peaceful, Bruce showed no hesitation in pulling the endotracheal tube from his own throat, hacking coarsely once it was out.

I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to convince myself that it was a dream and that I was still slumped in the chair, or that I was possibly even back at the penthouse and I had fallen asleep on the couch. My hands cupped his face as the coughs subsided, trying to direct his gaze to me, "Bruce? I'm here, baby. I'm here."

He continued to blink as he drew slow, painful breaths. It wasn't until he finally looked up at me that it sank in... he was awake.

"Bruce?" I asked again, feeling the hot tears slip over my smiling cheeks.

A minute passed before he whispered, "Who's... Bruce?"

I felt my heart literally shatter into a million pieces, horror washing over my face.

We had already lost a year of our lives when he had been stricken with amnesia, spared only because he had finally regained his memories.

Although he wasn't catatonic, I couldn't help but think to what Shondra had said earlier, that Bruce would wake up but he wouldn't be there…

No... not again…

Then the corner of his mouth twitched in a half-smirk while one of his swollen eyes winked.

"Jackass," I sobbed before collapsing over him, burying my face into the crook of his neck, "Don't you ever do that to me again…"

He drew several long breaths before I felt a hand settle on the small of my back and his chapped lips at my ears, "Yes, dear."

^V^


	19. Now And Then: XIX

Title: Now And Then: XIX

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The Family tries to pick up the pieces… and there are many.

Rating: T

Infringement: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Second to last chapter… what a ride it's been! My most sincere apologies for the delay on this beast of a chapter, summer has been too much fun to stay inside and write!

^V^

As the saying went, it was never the fall, it was always the landing that killed you.

Or nearly killed you, in my case.

For the brain damage induced petit mal and occasional grand mal seizures, I took Tegretol. To counteract the ventricular damage I had suffered during multiple bouts of heart failure and to support the endoscopic repairs from being wasted on another cardiac arrest, I took Digoxin. Due to the loss of both my spleen and gall bladder, I had Thymic Protein injections to prevent anemia and Omega-3 supplements to increase bile production.

Given the amount of swelling in my leg and edema in my abdomen, I took prescription strength Ibuprofen along with a diuretic to entice the excess fluids out of my system. The as needed Percocet on top of a Pain Control Unit of morphine were to alleviate the insurmountable pain that was caused with every move I made and every breath I took.

Last but not least, an antibiotic drip was attached to an IV catheter on the backside of my hand, treating post-thoracic surgery related pneumonia, generally unavoidable considering they had to crack my chest open to reverse the diaphragmatic hernia…

I had been better off staying in the coma for a few months.

When I had initially woken, my first sensation had not been pain but the inability to breathe. Intubation and respirators worked best on unconscious patients given the extreme discomfort and choking sensation they caused. Waking from an abrupt unconscious state that had begun in Crime Alley, suddenly being in a hospital room had been a shock to my internal gyroscope. Rather than take a moment to accept my location or even the fact that I was alive, my first instinct had been to rip the tube from my throat.

The next had been to find Selina's worried green eyes.

The concern and exhausted relief I had seen in them suggested my condition was just as bad as I had expected. Given how badly my body tingled with the counterbalance of pain and drugs, I had deemed I wasn't paralyzed, making my next priority to know what had happened to the Joker.

Unfortunately, my words came out as dry croaks and Selina practically covered my mouth to keep me from talking.

"Shut up," she cried into my neck, "Bruce… Just…"

I had. But not because she had told me to.

I had convinced myself that the eighty second stress induced seizure I had endured was worth sharing a few words with Selina.

It had taken nearly thirty minutes to come to again after battling overwhelming exhaustion. Ironically, I had to be convinced I had actually been awake given that the first face that came into view had been Dr. Shondra Kinsolving. I had tried to say her name as she flashed her penlight into my eyes, but she had also told me to keep quiet. She began to explain something in a low, even voice but it was difficult to hear her. I managed to read her lips, understanding that she was explaining Alfred had called her in from Boston to help.

As hard as I tried to focus my lethargic brain, I had been unable to hear her.

I had heard Selina earlier… although she had spoken directly into my ear...

Tentatively, I had shaken my head before rasping, "Can't… hear you."

Although a shocked look had come over Selina's face, Shondra had simply nodded, before speaking loudly, "There is some damage to your cranial nerves… from a basilar skull fracture. It may be temporary, once the residual swelling goes down."

After three days, the swelling had gone down, my lower respiratory infection had flared up and I was still practically deaf.

At least I wasn't blind as a…

That first night, Shondra had proceeded to test my vision, reflexes and coordination, systematically evaluating the function of my cranial nerves. Save for some fine motor skills that needed retuning, I had passed. She had then showed me my frighteningly thick medical chart, indicating the procedures that had been done and the medicine I was on. Although I hadn't followed in my father's footsteps, it hadn't required a medical license to determine that my critical condition status was justified.

When Shondra had left to alter my meds list at the nurse's station, I had felt Selina's hand squeeze mine. Looking to her, I had asked hoarsely, "The Joker?"

"Back the box," she had replied, "For good."

After finding a newspaper from a portable tray, she folded it back to the front page article, declaring the Joker was comatose following a stroke endured during apprehension and was on his way back down south.

I had a bad feeling in my gut, one that only Tim would be able to partially quell.

Although the Family had showed up the next morning, exuberant after hearing I had returned to the land of non-vegetative statehood, they had only been met by my unconscious form once again. I had been unable to maintain consciousness for more than twenty minutes at a time given the pain medication and sheer exhaustion. Add in the fact that I was barely able to hear anyone, the last thing I wanted to do was try and lip read their conversations.

Save for my children.

I had allowed Mattie and Nathan to sit with me on the gurney, both eager to sign casts as they had once before but my fractured knee was stabilized with internal and external pins as opposed to plaster. Nathan had remarked that it looked like his K'nex building set with the pins exiting my leg and locking into circular braces surrounding my thigh, knee and shin. After a follow-up surgery, there would be a cast, one which they would adorn with a rainbow of markers.

That first morning had been the easiest. In between bouts of sleep and enduring brief conversations, I had managed to spend a bit of time with each member of the Family. Tim had promised to talk with me when I was up to it, a conversation I wanted to hear, not read. It was the first afternoon that had been difficult, for them more than myself. While the Family had gone about their day, leaving me to rest, Selina and Alfred had remained after forcing the children to go home with Barbara and Dick.

Rather than rest, I had instead endured an afternoon of evaluations, medical exams, scans and tests in order to determine just how much of the gray matter in my skull had wasted away in the accumulated minutes I had no pulse. Exhausted and stressed by the time my Family had returned that night, I had endured another seizure, lapsing into grand mal status given the proper medication dosage had yet to be determined. Thankfully, I had not been conscious until after the kids had been ushered out of the room. Crying.

The head of neurology, Shondra and the SPECT scan technician agreed that the swelling was diminishing far quicker than they could have hoped for following my last surgery. EEG readouts along with the scan results and symptoms suggested the damage left behind indicated a life of impaired hearing, vertigo, tonic-clonic seizures, ataxia and short term memory loss. Added to the fact that I had a weakened heart, two less organs and a leg that would never bend at the knee in the near or distant future…

But I was alive.

Saturday morning, with the pneumonia taking its time to move out of my lungs, I had been visited by a pair of police detectives. Selina, who had remained at my bedside, tried to ward them off, informing them of my still critical condition but I had stopped her. It had been easy enough to answer their questions, especially after Dick had informed me of the cover story. Officially, I had stated that I had no recollection of what had happened, including the hours leading up to when I had been "attacked". The police had bought it for the time being, but had still wanted to question me further when I was feeling better.

Their doubts were justified, although I had no intention of ever telling them that I remembered every last second of Monday night. Every blow I had delivered to the Joker, every laugh that had escaped his bloody lips… and every second of my fall from grace.

_Let's see if old bats can still fly…_

By Saturday night, my only progress had been a set of hearing aides, another petit mal seizure and the pneumonia that had reached an unbearable level. The constant coughing and chest pain made sleep of any kind impossible. Shortly after eleven, a pair of nurses had accompanied Shondra, setting me to undergo an additional nebulizer treatment to help decrease irritation in my lungs enough for me to sleep. Along with a course of sedatives, I finally closed my eyes around one-thirty, Selina's hands still in mine.

When I woke, she was gone.

Looking about the darkened room, I was surprised to see only Tim, dressed in jeans and a wrinkled tee shirt. He said something and I shook my head, pointing to the tray by my bedside. He glanced to it before looking back to me, mouthing the word, "What?"

Knowing my finger dexterity wasn't on par for sign language, I opted to simplify it, pointing to my ear and then the tray. When Tim looked the second time, he found the clear plastic case that held my temporary hearing aides. When I made it home, my first order of business was to make my own so they were better calibrated and more comfortable.

"I'm sorry… I'm an idiot," he said as he handed me the case.

I coughed before inserting them, "Where's Selina?"

"Went to the penthouse to shower and change, have breakfast with Mattie and Nathan. I called her, told her I would sit with you."

"What time is it?" I asked, my voice not my own.

"Almost six-thirty," he leaned back in the chair, "I finished patrols, couldn't sleep."

His father and step-mother's funerals began in five hours.

"Shouldn't be here…" I told him.

"I know," Tim agreed. After a beat he said, "We haven't talked about what happened that night."

"No, we haven't."

My ragged breathing was the only sound in the room until Tim began, "After I saw you… in Crime Alley… I wanted to do it… even more than after I found Dad and Dana… Every time I hit him, I thought of something he had done, someone he had hurt… and when I thought of you… I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill him."

I had no reply.

His eyes fell to the hands in his lap, "I thought… that even though I stopped myself… I can't help but feel that… I know I hadn't meant to kill him… but I… I thought that I had caused the stroke… Now, I know the drugs were responsible but… at the time… I thought I had…"

"Tim."

"Yeah?"

"It's over… that's all that matters."

He shook his head, "No, it's never over." After a minute, he proceeded, "He said… If I wanted to be Batman, I had to think of what he had done to you… To all of them… what he would keep doing… And the only one way to stop him was to kill him."

I drew a shallow breath before responding, "He was wrong."

"How? He's comatose now… but… if he recovers and he escapes… He knows who we are, Harley knows… BoBo still isn't cooperating, he probably knows…"

"No, Tim, he was wrong about you…"

"What do you mean?"

"You don't want to be Batman…"

A panicked look came over his face, "No, Bruce, I do… I… I should have never doubted myself, I should have-."

I cut him off, "Let me finish." After he nodded, I said, "You don't want to be Batman… you are… Batman."

He went to speak again, but his words failed him.

Clearing my throat, I continued, "After you told your father you were taking the cowl… he spoke with me… he said… that becoming Robin… was the best thing that ever happened to you… that he wanted to know… if I had the same appreciation for you that… you held for me."

"Good soldier," he whispered

I shook my head, "No… you're a good man."

Tim smirked, no doubt reliving the trying time in his life when he had traded one mask for another.

I added, "I told him that I had made mistakes in my past… but that choosing you was not one of them… I gave him my word… that there was no one else I wanted to carry on the mantle…"

"What did he say?" Tim finally asked softly.

"Nothing… I always thought… he had been scared… talking to the real me… after so many years."

Tim smirked, "Yeah, he never got used to it… even with me, he always had a hard time talking about it… always ended changing the subject to how the Vikings were playing. He was so excited about their spring training this year…"

I watched as he wiped at his eyes, somehow his lips remaining still as he fought tears. After a moment, I found myself saying, "I'm sorry, Tim… that I can't be there today."

He nodded, looking away or a moment before directing his glassy eyes to me, "That's why I came to you."

We spent the next hour talking about Monday night, interrupted twice for my morning meds and blood draw and then when Selina returned at seven-thirty. She smiled to see the both of us in good spirits although she was quick to tell him that Tim was to head home under direct orders of Cassandra.

"Why's that?" he had asked, rising to his feet.

"Just the messenger, my dear boy."

He glanced down to me briefly before gently shaking my hand, "I'll be back tonight…"

I had nodded, my breathing having once more grown to an intolerable level.

There were thirty minutes until my morning appointment with a respiratory therapist.

Another hour before breakfast.

Only four hours until the funeral…

Rather than sit in the chair beside me, Selina reclined in the narrow space of mattress on my right side, gently resting her chin on my shoulder and her right arm across my chest. Fresh from the shower, her slightly damp hair smelled of almonds and her perfume was rich and sweet.

After a moment, I asked, "How are they?"

"Okay… Nathan doesn't want to wear a tie," she whispered, "I told him you said he had to."

"Make me the bad guy…" I said before coughing.

"Damn straight," she said before kissing my cheek.

Despite the agony in every fiber of my being, it had never felt so good to be alive.

^V^

Apparently _I'll meet you back at home in twenty _actually meant _I'll meet you back at home in several hours._

Oddly enough, once the Joker had been taken back into custody, patrols had seemed to return back to normal. Tim was back in the cowl and we scoured the streets for the run of the mill thugs and criminals as opposed to hunting down a mass murdering clown. Save for Dick and Helena's absence on the rooftops, it was as if nothing had happened.

And that was what bothered me most of all.

So many lives had been lost, victims without reason or cause. We had lost three people in the matter of weeks, but we were only one Family amongst hundreds in the city of Gotham and beyond that had been affected. And yet after so much effort and suffering, it seemed to have ended too quickly, too easily. While we had visited the hospital earlier in the week, Tim had reminded me that it never ended.

Looking at Bruce's bruised, comatose face, I had realized that it hadn't ended easy for all of us…

His waking was supposed to have changed everything for the better, making it all worthwhile. I had personally seen it as the final step in our lives getting back to actually feeling normal. Regrettably, when his eyes opened, he wasn't magically all better. There were going to be changes, in his life and ours as a result. Despite all the advances in medicine, he would most likely never regain his hearing, nor the complete use of his left leg. That alone would have been enough, but add in the brain damage, seizures and coordination problems…

When I had first met him, he had been the pinnacle of human physiological and psychological perfection. I had seen him fall to his lowest once before, slowly rising to reach near perfection once more. I had a bad feeling it wouldn't happen a second time…

"Where are you?" I asked, using the computer to contact him from our Cave Sweet Cave.

"I'm at the Sat-Cave," he lied.

"_I'm_ at the Sat-Cave."

Once I had showered changed after patrols, I had decided to wait for Tim before making the trek to the townhouse where we would both crash into down pillows. After thirty minutes had passed, I looked him up on the radar monitor and sure enough he wasn't anywhere near the Sat-Cave or the Townhouse. Although we had spent most of the night side-by-side, we had parted ways just after five in the morning, he went east while I went south. Wrapping things up, we had agreed to call it quits and rest up for the morning's morbid events.

Apparently, he had changed his mind.

"I'll meet you back at home in twenty minutes," his gruff voice came over the speakers of the main computer.

I made the trek home alone, knowing full well Tim would not be done in twenty minutes. Using the kitchen entrance, I let Robbie out of his downstairs crate before following him to the back door. As he romped and loped about the backyard, I listened as only the jingle of his collar and his content snorts broke the pre-dawn silence.

Returning to the house, I fed the exuberant Boxer his kibble while I settled for a cold bagel and vegetable cream cheese. Sated, I raced him upstairs in order to lure him towards the master bedroom. He beat me to the door by his short stubby nose but I managed to leap into the bed before him. Seeing how Tim had yet to make it back, I decided Robbie could use his pillows for the time being.

Setting the alarm for eight, I was surprised when I woke at seven all on my own, unheard of given how little I had slept in the last few weeks. With Robbie blissfully snoring away, I grabbed the remote off of Tim's nightstand and turned on the flat screen hanging on the wall opposite the bed. It was on the Food Network and as tempting as it was to watch Rachel Ray pound out a full meal in thirty minutes, I switched it to one of the local morning news programs.

The first station was discussing the citizen's support to shut down the asylum and ship out all high risk inmates to larger, modern facilities.

The next station was discussing the ramifications of the Joker's four months of freedom, including economic impact on Gotham.

The third showed live coverage of a camera and reporter trying to get a word from a dark-haired woman as she passed through automatic glass doors. I turned the volume up and smirked to hear the reporter ask, "How is Bruce doing?"

Once in the lobby of the hospital, Selina paused and turned to face the camera, her hands full with a cup holder of coffee and a white paper bag. "He's doing very well…"

She was cut off, "Any insight into the public announcement later today?"

Selina put on a fake smile and responded as warmly as she could that early in the morning, "Dr. Kinsolving just wants to update everyone on how he is doing… And… thank everyone for their concern and well wishes…"

"Do you feel as if your marriage is back on track?"

"I… We are looking to getting things back to normal when he gets home from the hospital, our whole family is." Obviously a prepared statement, no doubt one Bruce had told her to answer with.

"Any word on when he'll be released?"

"Again, Dr. Kinsolving will be addressing that later today," she said before turning to leave.

"One more question, please?"

She sighed, before nodding and turning back to the camera.

The reporter hesitated before inquiring, "Is it true that the Commissioner is going to give Bruce a Citizen's Award, in light of the events that took place?"

She continued to be graceful as she answered politely, "Nothing official has been decided and we certainly don't expect anything… he was just doing his job… as a dad. Now if you'll excuse me-."

It was true. Word had gotten around that in light of his standing up to unidentified street thugs in order to protect his daughter, Kelsey and the mayor wanted to commend him publicly. Although Bruce was strongly against it, the matter wasn't for him to decide. He couldn't see the bravery in his actions, only the failure.

Having to be rewarded for failing was something relatively low on his wish list.

After the reporter had proceeded to summarize his brief accosting of Selina and reminded viewers of the public announcement scheduled for later in the day, I reached for the house phone on my night stand and dialed her cell phone. On the third ring, she greeted me with a sigh, "Dear child, what are you doing awake at this hour?"

"Watching you on TV."

There was a low growl before she commented, "That was live… Damnit… Those sneaky sons of- No, fifth floor, please… thanks… Well, that's just wonderful, they're lucky I didn't throw coffee in their faces.. Who corners someone going to the hospital, talk about low…"

I wondered if she was talking to me or herself. Probably both.

"Tim's with him, isn't he?"

Selina replied, "Yeah… he dropped by about an hour ago. Offered to sit with him while I went home to shower and have breakfast with the wee ones. Want me to send him home?"

"Uh… sure."

"Will I be asking him to go home or ordering him?"

I smiled before saying, "Ordering."

She laughed weakly, "Good girl."

Just as I was preparing my second breakfast, French toast and half of a cantaloupe with cottage cheese, the kitchen door opened and closed softly. I glanced over as Tim forced a smile upon his lips. When I offered to make him breakfast as well, a look came over his face that said eating was not one of his priorities. Or any other basic life function for that matter, save for breathing and brooding.

In the last week, he had been able to distract himself from preparing to say farewell to Jack and Dana by worrying about Bruce. Although he had spent a great deal of time visiting him, Tim had admitted that they hadn't spent a great deal of time talking. No doubt he had spent his morning alone with Bruce doing just that.

The funeral arrangements had been a step-by-step process, a task list to draw his attention to the requirements of the event instead of its purpose. I, along with the rest of the Family, had offered to help in any way we could but he had assured us it was undercontrol. The others he had managed to convince, but I had seen the shell crack after that first visit to the hospital Monday night. He had nearly broken under the pressure a number of times but had always caught himself, forcing back the emotions to portray the control he was fighting for.

Always putting others before himself, like any good hero…

Rather than force him to come to terms with life, and death, I had simply remained at his side day and night, waiting and watching. Losing my father would have been a blessing, there was no reason for me to act like I knew what he was going through. The others had experienced similar tragedies and had offered more then enough empathy, not that he wanted it.

Before the calling hours had started the night before, Tim and I had sat alone in the funeral parlor, his eyes never leaving his father's open casket. A garish bullet wound to the face had nearly made it a closed casket ceremony, but thankfully the mortician's morbid cosmetic abilities had come through and made the wound invisible. Although peaceful in death, Jack and Dana looked like strangers to me, the body language I had read for so many years long gone.

Tim had sighed softly, "It's never going to be the same."

"I know," I had offered.

"No, I meant… not just… _our _lives… but our masked lives… I'll always have that moment… Of being that close to crossing the line. For them... For him…"

I had remained silent for a moment, then took his hand into mine. When he had finally looked down at me, I had said, "I crossed that line. Dick's crossed that line. Alfred has… Gordon did… We had no choice, put in a bad situation with bad endings… You had a bad situation, with a good ending. No matter what, you can't forget that."

He had nodded, but when his eyes left to stare once more at his late father, I wasn't sure if he had heard what I had said. Before I could offer any other useless means of comfort, he had spoken softly, "I know there are some things you can't forget, Cass. Some things you don't want to…" he reached up and touched his right cheek, the laceration deftly concealed with makeup and prosthetic flesh, "Some things you should never forget."

Saying anything else at the moment would have been like throwing gas on the fire so I had fallen back to my lifelong habit of remaining silent.

The five hours we had spent at the funeral parlor the previous night had been the longest of my life. So many unfamiliar faces, so many peopled affected by the sudden passing of Jack and Dana Drake. It was only then that I realized that it was bigger than just Tim or me or even the Family. The ripple effect went on and on and on…

There were some familiar faces amidst the mourners. Selina, Mattie and Nathan stayed until eight, departing to get ready for their last night in the penthouse. Alfred and Leslie had stayed until the very end, both gravely worried for Tim's well being. Even Dr. Kinsolving left the hospital to drop by and offer her condolences and to bid farewell to her former patient. Dick, Barbara and Ethan had visited briefly, Barbara leaving with their little son shortly after arriving. I hadn't heard him crying but it certainly was no place for a toddler.

I had been surprised that Clark and his wife had visited but he then again he had always supported Tim, before and after he had taken the cowl. There were other League members and former Titans that had offered sad hugs and kisses on Tim's cheek but dressed in balk garb instead of colorful costumes, they were practically unrecognizable.

The only one missing had been Bruce…

I plated my French toast and hopped up on a stool to eat, watching Tim as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He was tired and yet he seemed oddly refreshed. Maybe Bruce had been able to lure him back into reality.

After he had drained it and I had eaten two slices, Tim finally said, "I want to move to Bristol… It's… more feasible, really… and… I think it's what Dad would have wanted… for me to come home."

"Okay," I answered softly.

He set his mug in the sink before leaning against it, folding his arms over his broad chest, "Are you sure?"

I nodded, setting my fork down before stepping back onto the cold, tiled floor. Pausing in front of him, I set a hand over his chest, "Home is where the heart is."

Smirking, Tim replied, "We need to block the Lifetime Movie channel."

I nodded, "Yes, we do."

He dropped his arms in order to embrace me. I pressed my right cheek flat against his sternum, listening as he drew long, deep breaths. A minute passed before he added, "I want to give the townhouse to Will. He's been wanting a bigger place in a better neighborhood… and after all we've put him through… he deserves it."

"Wouldn't it be… re-gifting?"

"… We'll tell Bruce he bought it from us."

"Lie to Bruce?" I asked while pulling away to look up at him.

"Fib, fib to Bruce." He released me before drawing a long yawn. Glancing at the microwave clock he shook his head, "Going to go shower… get dressed…"

"Tim…"

"Chauffer will be here around nine… we'll have to swing by before the reception to walk Robbie," he continued as he headed towards the door, "…Maybe we can bring him with us… don't know when we're going to be getting back here, or maybe Dick could walk him…"

When I stepped forward and put a hand on his arm, he turned to face me and whispered, "You know what? Bruce told me the same thing you've been telling me all week… that I need to focus on what I did, not what I could have done…"

"And?"

".. and some other things," he cleared his throat, "Manly, guy things."

"Emotional manly, guy things?"

Tim nodded, a sad smile coming to his lips, "No lying to you, is there?"

I shook my head, "Or fibbing."

^V^

My first funeral of the year had been Helena's, attended mainly by former students and estranged relatives. Given the extent and nature of her injuries, it had been a closed casket service followed by the entombment at the Gotham Cemetery. It had been a partly cloudy day and I had dreaded every step I had taken in the direction of the Bertinelli mausoleum. There had been no social gathering afterwards, save for the brief Family meeting we had held under a tree, making the day begin and end in gloom.

The second and third, funerals of the year belonged to Jack and Dana Drake, also murdered by the Joker. As if to mock the occasion, the sun was shining, the grass was green and the flowers planted in the gardens around the church were blooming. There was a larger outpour of family members and friends, more tears flowing down more faces.

Halfway through the service, Ethan started to get fussy and I was unable to get him to quiet down. I tried letting him watch the Wonderpets on my iPhone, bouncing him on my lap, offering a Motts for Tots juice box and a variety of snacks that Barbara had stowed away in his diaper bag. Alfred had turned around from the pew in front of me and offered to take him but I shook my head, quickly grabbing Ethan's bag before making a hasty, quiet exit out a side door.

After a quick diaper change in the men's room, I found a room that appeared safe enough to let him loose to run amuck. Upon a bit of investigating, I was quick to realize it was the home of the pre-school program offered by the church. Ethan toddled about the room filled with activity tables, bookshelves and trunks of toys. When he found a stuffed elephant and began running around with it, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.

Retrieving it, I wasn't surprised to see that Barbara had sent me a text message: EGG ok?

I responded quickly: yeah, playing in preschool room , hows tim?

She replied after a minute: good

Good.

For Helena's funeral, we had been able to leave Ethan with his Granny Selina. Given that we all wanted to be there for Tim throughout the day, we had to either leave him with a babysitter or take him with us. Considering the duress we had faced for the last few months, leaving our son with a stranger with less than military grade security wasn't an option. Regrettably, keeping a toddler happy through a hour and a half long funeral services wasn't either.

Ethan tripped on the carpet, falling to his knees as his hands gripped the elephant tightly to his chest. Rather than cry, he let one hand go to push himself back up before taking off again. He ran directly to me, crashing into my legs before looking up, smiling wide enough to show his two tiny front teeth.

"What are you doing?" I grinned back at him.

"Dah-duh-dah-duh…okay. Vroommmm."

"Vroom, vroom!" I replied back.

He shook his head rapidly and took off again, making his favorite motorcycle sounds as he did laps around the room.

Watching him race around the empty toddler haven made me wonder how his cousin Sarah was fairing. Jim Jr. had wanted to fly back to Gotham to lend his support but Mo had been adamant that he needed to stay home and rest. Although he and his fiancée were on the fast track to physical recovery following the attack by the Joker, mentally and emotionally she was still fragile. She had moved to Gotham with Jim to start their little family, not to nearly be killed by a homicidal clown.

Perhaps that was why no one ever moved to Gotham, if anything they moved away.

Or died trying.

By the time the services let out, Ethan had colored all over a picture of Jesus sitting with small children, eaten a baggie of Fig Newtons and had polished off a juice box. After one last diaper check, I swung the bag over my right shoulder before taking Ethan's hand and heading to the hallway.

He laughed as we passed through the door, "Bye-bye, see-uh-soo."

Once we reached the main atrium, I hefted Ethan up in one arm so I didn't loose him in the throng. He waved bye-bye to the dark clothed people, most of them offering teary smiles at him. Towards the end, I spotted Selina and the kids and when I nodded at them, they moved to stand with us. Nathan looked sleepy, Mattie solemn and Selina emotionally drained. She stood beside me and took Ethan from me, kissing his chubby cheeks before shaking her head at me.

"You okay?" I asked.

Selina nodded before kissing Ethan again, "I am now."

Another few dozen people passed by before Barbara appeared, making her exit with Will, Leslie, Alfred and Shondra. While they joined our group in the wide corridor, I kept my eyes on the mourners, looking for Cass and Tim. Barbara squeezed my hand, drawing my eyes to her briefly, "How was the wild child?"

"Okay… should be good for a nap now."

Will commented that he also was ready for a nap. When I joked that I still had juice and cookies in the diaper bag, he asked, "What kind of cookies?"

"Healthy cookies."

"No such thing," he remarked.

Letting go of me, Barbara said, "I'll take him to the Manor, give him some lunch and put him down for a while… That way you can go with them, to the cemetery."

"Sounds like a plan… Was anyone going to check on Bruce, before the reception?"

Selina turned to face me, Ethan gently playing with her gold necklace, "The kids and I are going there next… we'll meet everyone back up in Bristol."

A cemetery was no place for children…

Shondra then spoke, "I also will meet you back at the reception… I have to head to the hospital myself. Dr. Bachman from orthopedics wanted to discuss the follow-up leg surgery, do a new set of radiographs. Hopefully we can wrap that up before I have to bare my throat to the press."

Mattie surprisingly spoke up, "When are they going to operate again?"

"Hopefully next week."

The future Dr. Wayne further inquired, "Then he can come home?"

"Yes, then he can come home," Shondra assured her.

Although he had been awake for nearly a week, his release from the hospital had been delayed given that he had to undergo heart surgery as well as the pending additional orthopedic corrections to his shattered left knee. Even after the three day in-hospital recovery period, when he returned home he would be confined to a bed or a wheelchair for at least three weeks. After that, it would be months of physical therapy to try and regain flexibility and use in his leg.

He had told me earlier in the week that it was worth it.

I had told him he was idiot.

Nevertheless, I hoped to get myself on the same track to recovery so that we would be able to go to the same rehabilitation clinic, mostly to have the company but also to make sure he behaved himself. Although I hadn't admitted it yet, where Bruce had a natural instinct to recover and get back on his feet no matter what, I had a sick feeling in my stomach that it wasn't the case, not anymore.

As much as I wanted it to be the fact that he was still off kilter following his surgeries or the coma or even the fight with the Joker, deep down I couldn't help but think that something had changed in him. The few times I had held actual conversations with him in his ICU room had been painful, seeing him pretend to be the same old Bruce when he wasn't. There was something that had died when he had fallen to that patch of pavement, just as it had over forty years ago.

Or even when he had fallen to Pasqualle's bullets.

I let my detrimental line of thought subside when Tim and Cass came into view.

No matter what had happened to Bruce, at least he would live to see another day.

After kissing his deftly concealed cheek injury, Cass let Tim step outside alone. He was most likely checking to make sure the hearses were in order and that the valets had lined up the cars in the correct order before he and the pallbearers went to work. I would have done anything to have helped him carry his father or Dana to their final resting place but I was barely able to carry my son around…

Knowing he would not be a happy camper about being made to sit still again, even if it was in his car seat, I decided to help Barbara load Ethan and his belongings into the car and see her off. Selina handed him back over to me before looking to her own children. She set a hand on Nathan's shoulder and squeezed it as he asked, "Are we going to see Dad now?"

"Yep, then we're going to get some lunch, go see him for a bit, then pick up the animals and your luggage at the penthouse before heading to the reception."

"Good… I'm hungry."

As Barbara and I turned to leave, my empty stomach growled angrily at the very thought of food but I stayed the course, following my wife out with Ethan poking me in the cheek, Reaching the parking lot, I realized that with Barbara and the boy wonder leaving for Bristol, I was without a ride to the cemetery. I was just about to pull out my cell to get a hold of Cass when a odd breeze washed over me.

Turning around, I smiled to see Clark Kent adjust his tie with one and righting his glasses with the other. I had spoken with him the night before at calling hours but had been sad to hear he wasn't staying the night Duty calls, he had said.

A sad look crossed his perfect face before he sighed, "I missed the service, didn't I?"

I nodded, shifting Ethan in my arm as Barbara unlocked the car, "Afraid so, but we're heading up to the cemetery now. Reception doesn't start for two hours."

Clark took a deep breath before saying, "Good… Had an earthquake in Chile, part of a hospital collapsed, managed to get nearly everyone out alive." He stopped and looked over Ethan, his discontent subsiding, "Sorry… it's just… it's amazing, everytime seeing him..."

I replied proudly, "Almost into twenty-four month clothes… even though he's only sixteen." I turned and set Ethan in his car seat, buckling him in while continuing, "You didn't get to see him in action at the Clocktower or last night. Walking, talking-."

Barbara cut in, "Getting into trouble…"

"Like any good toddler," Clark sided with me. When he glanced back towards the church, he must have spotted Tim as the sad look returned, "How is he holding up?"

Barbara retrieved Ethan's plush Peter the Rabbi from his bag, hading it to me to pass on to him. Task completed, she threw the bag behind the driver's seat before saying, "Okay… He's been trying to bottle it up, put it behind him… patrolling every night like nothing happened."

Clark shook his head as he directed his gaze back to us, "Well, he has the night off. And any other night he needs. I'll be here tonight, J'onn has offered to help as well."

Feeling guilty for not being there to help Tim once again, I shifted my left arm before thanking him, "I'm sure he'll try to decline the offer… but I'll make sure he says yes."

"Oh… he already has. I spoke with him last night, offered to do my part in watching over the city… he accepted." When I shook my head in surprise, Clark added, "I forget… sometimes… he's so much like Bruce and then… he's not." Before I could figure out the best way to ask him to fly me to the cemetery, he said, "How's the arm?"

Looking down at the sling hidden beneath my suit coat, I shrugged, "Not too bad, had a follow-up at the beginning of the week, so far so good."

Clark Kent was a polite man, to an extent that even Alfred Pennyworth would have trouble finding a flaw in his mannerisms. Superman was similar in many ways to his alter ego, but when he felt it was necessary, he would cross certain lines. This included whenever his friends and allies were injured or ill, where he would scan them briefly with his radiographic vision.

Had I a similar ability, I would know the color and cut of every woman's underwear.

I felt his eyes on me, staring not at my face but my torso. Before I could tease Clark by asking what I had for lunch, Ethan kicking in his seat, a warning he gave that he was not in a happy toddler mood. Barbara looked to me and said, "We better get going… I'll see you at the reception."

I nodded and although she didn't like it, I held her chair while she climbed up into the driver's seat and then promptly folded it in order to store it in the back hatch. After Clark bid his farewell to her, we watched her back out of the spot before driving out the back exit.

After we had been alone for five seconds, Clark asked, "How is he?"

Since he had already asked how Tim was doing, _him _only meant one other person in the Family.

I had found it interesting that Clark had showed up the night the Joker had attacked the Firm and left Will and I laying in pools of blood. He had flown hundreds of miles from one global emergency or another the moment he had heard about what had happened. He had been unable to stay until I was out of surgery, it had been the thought that had counted.

As far as I had known, he hadn't been to see Bruce since he fell to the Joker.

Their feud had started when Clark had made an off comment that Bruce needed his help after the Joker had blown up a planetarium full of people on April Fool's Day. It had ended a fraction of a second later when Bruce had punched Clark square in the face, breaking two metacarpals in his hand. Although Clark had touched base with us off and on over the last few weeks following his fight with Bruce, there was no doubt in my mind that he had exchanged any words with his former ally.

My delay in answering him had prompted Clark to admit, "I came once to see him… the morning after he… I knew something would go wrong, that I should have just ignored him at the Watchtower and… I thought he was going to die."

"We all did," I confessed.

He continued, "I was going to change and come in… but then he had a seizure and Selina was so upset… once he was stable, his doctor stayed afterwards to monitor him… He hasn't been that bad since-."

"I know… and in a way this is worse," I inhaled slowly before continuing, "At least with the amnesia he was able to recover. This time, whatever damage is there, it's permanent. He's practically deaf… balance and coordination is going to suffer… not to mention short term memory problems."

"And his leg," Clark offered quietly.

After a beat, I tried to lighten the mood, "Well, on the bright side, at least now he won't be able to come out of retirement again to do something incredibly stupid. He will have no choice but to act his age… get a nice shiny cane, tweed hat… sit on a bench in Robinson Park feeding the ducks…"

"The quiet road. Bruce?"

I smirked, "Well, not entirely quiet. He still has to scare boys away from Mattie for the rest of her life."

We watched on silently from the parking lot as the pallbearers, Tim included, carried out Jack and Dana's coffins. Once the hearses were loaded, Clark admitted, "Actually, I'm supposed to cover the public statement this afternoon."

"You should go see him, afterwards. Selina and the kids are actually headed over there now, I bet you could even catch him befo-."

Clark shook his head, "No… I don't think I can see him in a hospital bed again. Maybe after he's home."

"We're hoping that will be in another week or so."

"Hope…" Clark seemed to say to himself, "Something we all need right about now."

^V^

Shondra drove herself back to the hospital in order to attend to her consult with the orthopedic surgeon as well as to prepare herself for the public statement. After doing battle with reporters for a week, we had decided it was high time to finally make an official announcement about Bruce's condition and prognosis. I had expected Alfred and Leslie to join her but following the funeral, they had driven up to the cemetery for the remainder of the service.

Given that we weren't part of the funeral procession, the kids and I walked towards the rear of the lot where I had the valet park the Mercedes. As they hopped in the back and buckled in, I settled into the driver's seat and smiled at them from the rearview mirror. "You guys want to stop for a quick bite to eat, maybe bring Dad something?"

"Can't we just go there and eat?" Mattie asked.

"Well, Dad has to get some x-rays done and he has an appointment with the doctor who is going to operate on his leg again. We have probably forty minutes before we can actually see him."

Mattie sighed as she retrieved her cell phone from her small, black purse. When I asked her where she wanted to eat, she mumbled, "I don't care."

Turning around to face Nathan, I asked him the same question. He shrugged and fought with his tie, "Um… I don't remember how to say it?"

"Say what? The name of the restaurant?"

He nodded, "Yeah… Dad says it funny. The place with the glass bridge and the goldfish you walk over…"

I smiled at him, "La Puerta Azul."

My son's face lit up, "Yeah, that's it. Can we go there?"

Nodding, I answered, "Of course we can."

It actually ended up working out perfectly. There was no wait for a table, at least not after the hostess recognized me and offered her most sincere best wishes for Bruce's speedy recovery. Aside from the complimentary fresh tortilla chips and guacamole, Mattie had listlessly picked at an order of quesadillas, Nathan had devoured a plate of grilled and vegetable taqueiras while I chose the fresh ensalada de tomate. For Bruce, Nathan had picked out a milder dish of flour tortillas with roasted vegetables and pork.

I asked Mattie twice during lunch to put her cell phone away while she was texting rather than eating. Terry was going to be at the reception at the Drake residence that afternoon and she had been talking to him on and off all morning. I had even gone as far as taking her phone away during the funeral service, of which had earned me an eye roll.

The last two weeks had been difficult on the entire Family but I had seen a fairly drastic change in my daughter, one I had hoped would dissolve after her father was on his way to recovery. It had started when Dick had been shot by the Joker, her becoming reserved for the first time in her life. She began locking herself in her room, living on her iPod and cell phone, not to mention sneaking Terry onto the property. With the Joker circling in closer and closer, she had practically become a younger version of Bruce, emotional, short-tempered, impatient and reclusive.

Alfred's return had been a lifesaver as she had always been close to him. Even still, there was only so much he could do for her while trying to keep the rest of the Family from falling apart. Like any teenaged girl, Mattie had learned to depend on herself and her friends, starting to lose faith and trust in her relatives. She was defiant, in her own special way, questioning our authority and judgment. The day Bruce had told her he was taking the cowl again had been the crowning piece…

_No… you can't do this alone! He killed Huntress, tried to kill Jim and Maureen… shot Dick and Will… and Cass and-._

_Mattie, that's-._

_He killed all of those people in the restaurant… the planetarium! All of those Old Joke crimes, the doctor they kidnapped… You can't do this alone!_

_That is enough!_

And yet as he had faced to the Joker, there had been an even more worrisome change in her. She had brashly escaped the Watchtower while under supervision of the world's greatest superheroes and taken off into the night with her self created guise. Rather than relish in her forbidden accomplishments, Mattie had become like a forlorn zombie, wandering about her interim daily routine of staying at the Penthouse or visiting the hospital. She tried to hide it but considering I had given birth to her and that she was just like her father, I was more than capable of seeing passed the façade.

Alfred and myself had tried numerous times trying to get her to open up about Monday night, namely seeing her father nearly die, but she had promised that she was okay. Her dependence on lending her troubles to her best friend and boyfriend shouldn't have been as unsettling as it was… if we had been a normal family, but we were far from it. I trusted her not to betray us by divulging information not meant for outside ears. I had to believe it… but somehow with all the mealtime texting and late night phone calls between her and Terry, I was losing faith.

And I hated myself for it.

As for my other child, Nathan had enjoyed being out of school and spending time in the city. Every trip we made the hospital, he was excited to visit with Bruce and talk about his summer plans of playing tee-ball and team practices for junior peewee football games that started in September. I had witnessed many of the enthusiastic conversations, namely Nathan saying "we" and "us" as he talked on and on with his father. For being nearly six, he had a good understanding of the fact that Bruce was hurt. Regrettably, he didn't have the perception of time that it would take for him to heal.

Or the fact that Bruce would no longer be able to be the running back when they played football in the back yard…

Paying the bill, I let Nathan carry Bruce's lunch in the paper bag out to the car. Mattie had returned to her cell phone, plugging in ear buds so she could further blot me out. Once we were back in the car, I turned the ignition on and made our way back to the weekend throng of traffic.

I had hoped that by going to lunch Bruce would have been out of radiology and back in his room by the time we arrived. Regrettably, there had been a delay and when we made it to his room, it was empty. Even though I knew he was fine, just a floor below getting his leg x-rayed again, I couldn't help but feel a fluttering in my chest from seeing his vacant room.

To distract Nathan, I had him work on setting up his father's lunch on the portable table. He even went as far as taste testing to make sure it was up to par. After I sent him to fill the pitcher with water from the bathroom, I turned to Mattie as she sat quietly in a chair on the other side of the room.

"You all right, kiddo?"

Mattie shrugged, putting her phone in her pocket before saying, "Yeah… Where's Dad?"

"I'm sure he's on his way back down…" I glanced to the open door and into the ICU corridor. Shondra wanted to relocate him the next day to the orthopedic ward if all went as planned at the consultation.

She then asked, "Why didn't we go to the cemetery?"

I hesitated before answering her while pointlessly adjusting my necklace, "Well… it's.. it's really just an extra chance to say good-bye."

"We should be there, for Tim."

Nodding, I crossed the empty room and took the seat next to her, "I know… but Dick's there, and Will... Uncle Clark… Tim's family that we met at calling hours… They are there for him… And we will be, too, at the reception."

"Still," she pouted, "We should be there."

Not wanting to argue over something that couldn't be changed, I nodded, "I know, kiddo…"

A moment later, Nathan emerged from the bathroom, surprisingly not covered in water. He carefully set the pitcher next to the cardboard platter the restaurant had provided. Task completed, he sighed with relief and then walked over to climb onto my lap.

"Good job, Nate."

He grinned up at me briefly before asking, "Where's Dad?"

I was just about to ask him to let me up to go find out when the back of an orderly appeared in the door way, guiding in Bruce's gurney with the help of a nurse at the other end. Holding Nathan in my lap to make sure he remained out of the way, I watched as the bed was returned to its normal place. As the nurse transferred the oxygen cannula to the wall outlet and hung the IV bags on the metal stand that had been vacant in his absence. When the orderly moved to left so the nurse could reconnect the Pain Control Unit, I found Bruce staring straight up at the ceiling rather than looking over at us.

After the nurse asked him if he was all settled in, Bruce finally nodded before saying, "Thank you, Sharon."

"It's… Connie, Mr. Wayne. Sharon will be back for the afternoon shift."

He shook his head, "I'm sorry… Thank you, Connie."

"No problem," she touched his right forearm before looking to me, "Dr. Kinsolving said she would be down in about a half-hour to speak with you."

"We'll be here, thanks."

As the nurse and orderly left, Bruce finally turned to face us, forcing a smile to his dry lips.

Nathan hopped down off of my lap and quickly moved to lean against the bedrail, "Hi, Dad, I… we brought you lunch."

He went to push the table so that it rested over the bed but Bruce put a hand on our son's shoulder, "Thanks, tiger… but I'm not hungry right now… I'll eat in a little while."

"It's really good, we went to the place with the bridge."

Bruce smiled again, "Can't wait." He then glanced to me, a painful look in his eyes. When his gaze shifted to Mattie, he said, "Hey, kitten…"

She smiled weakly at him and asked, "Are they going to do your surgery?"

Nodding, he replied, "Tuesday. Hopefully I'll be home by Saturday."

"For cartoons?" Nathan asked, as he proceeded to fight with his tie.

"Yes, for cartoons… Selina… can you help him take his tie off?"

I nodded, "Come here, Mowgli, I'll set you free."

As I unleashed my son, I listened as Mattie and Bruce talked softly about the funeral and moving back to the Manor. Nathan returned to Bruce's bedside, mesmerized not by the conversation but by the leg brace tented under the white cotton sheet draping his father. I half-expected him to reach through the railing to poke at it but thankfully he didn't.

Much like my daughter had been for the last two weeks, I silently observed my surroundings, seemingly ignoring anyone talking in my vicinity. Bruce continued to smile and converse with the kids, every once in a while glancing to me with the same uneasy look. It was a strong indicator that there was something wrong, wrong enough that he didn't want to discuss in front of our children.

We had decided the day before what Shondra was going to cover in the public statement, namely a brief overview of his injuries sustained in the attack Monday nigh. The police had been cooperative in not commenting specifically about his injuries, only that he had managed to distract his attacker so that Mattie could flee to safety. The talk about him receiving public commendation for his actions was still only a rumor although we were expecting the official offer any day. Shondra was to assure the viewers, and stockholders, that Bruce was on the mend and would soon to be released from the hospital to make further recovery at home with his family.

Nathan's icy eyes appeared directly in front of mine, forcing me to snap out of it, "Mom?"

"Yeah?" I said, not sure how long he had been trying to get my attention.

Mattie stepped forward, "We're going to the vending machines, get something to drink."

I looked to Bruce and he nodded, silently telling me he had arranged the diversion and required me to fund it. After retrieving my wallet from my purse, I gave Mattie all of my small bills and asked her to get me a Vitamin Water."

"Triple X?" she smirked.

"Surprise me," I smiled back. After they had disappeared into the hall, I stood from the chair, dropped the railing before sitting on the edge of the gurney's mattress, "That bad?"

Bruce sighed heavily, unable to meet my gaze, "That bad."

I took his hand into mine, squeezing it gently while asking, "Care to elaborate? I'm assuming this won't be covered in the statement…"

He went silent for a full minute before finally squeezing my fingers back, "It's not going to be just one more surgery." I asked how many and he replied, "Too many… To regain at minimum seventy-five percent mobility, Dr. Bachman estimates at least four surgeries…. Four months lapsing between each one… Taking bone from my pelvis… connective tissue from my back…"

A good, doting wife would tell him not to worry and with a simple kiss on his boo-boo it would be all better. Being who I was, I asked, "And how much mobility would result after the surgery next week?"

"Optimistically…" he said softly, "Thirty percent."

Nothing I could say or do would make it better.

He took a deep breath , seemingly shedding the dreary thoughts with a forced smirk, "On a lighter note… my catheter comes out this afternoon."

"Oh yeah?" I forced a smirk upon my lips.

He nodded slowly, "Yeah. We should," he winced before finishing, "… celebrate."

I couldn't help it. The overwhelming events of the day and the days to come should have been enough to quell my laughter from rising up my throat and escaping my lips. After regaining some sense of control, I offered, "No surgeries, no love."

"Are you bribing me with a marital right?"

Reaching into my purse, I retrieved the wedding band I had yet to return to him, "Marital rights are on hold, Mr. Wayne. Our marriage is on the rocks, remember?"

"You said otherwise on the news this morning," he maintained a deadpan expression.

"And I believe you recently said something about renewing vows on our anniversary…"

He grunted.

"And I'm fairly certain doctor's orders are to stay calm, relaxed and restful for the next two weeks.

Grunt redux.

Returning the ring to my purse, I glanced up as Mattie and Nathan entered the room bearing beverages. I watched on as Nathan asked Bruce to open his root beer bottle and then whined when he was taxed a gulp of it by his father. Mattie sat in the chair next to me, ignoring her cell phone as it blipped in her purse so she could ask her father if was going to shave anytime soon.

Despite the reason why my children were in their dress clothes and the act that my husband had at least another week in the hospital, I found a reason to smile.

^V^

If one more person asked me how I was doing or offered to help however they could, I was going to go postal.

I appreciated their condolences and sympathies, but I was literally tired of hearing them. With the Family, it had been unspoken support rather than the verbal onslaught I had been undergoing all day. It was my biological family and relatives of my late step-mother that were so overcome with grief and shock that they were certain I must have been an equal wreck. Thankfully, the few college friends I had acquired in my years and GSU had opted to drop by the calling hours instead of attending the funeral services.

Even Eric Donovan had showed up, a former classmate of mine who had run into tough times after graduating. In February, I had questioned him vigorously about his possession of a Joker card, back when we had thought they had been a link to-.

"Hey," I heard Cass as she sat down next to me in the cool grass.

It had been nearly an hour since my father and Dana had been on the receiving end of the final farewell. Although the attendees of the cemetery service had departed after touching the glossy caskets and leaving flowers over them, I had remained motionless. Standing with Cass to my left and Dick to my right, I had watched on as employees of the funeral parlor had removed the flower displays set up around the caskets and removed the green drapes that had disclosed the dirt piles on the far side and the graves beneath them.

"You don't have to stay, Tim," Dick had whispered as a small backhoe started approaching up the hill.

"Yes… I do," I had replied.

The parlor manager had then approached me, offering his condolences and stating that the limousine was ready to depart when I was. I politely informed I was staying until everything was done and he had nodded solemnly before excusing himself. Out of my peripheral vision, I had spotted him speaking with the cemetery crew that had parked the backhoe thirty yards away. After a few brief exchanges the crew started up the machine again and began to slowly inch towards us.

The twenty-three minutes that had followed had been the longest of my life.

Given that there still had been some time until the reception in Bristol, I had excused myself to go for a walk in order to clear my head. I had to turn down the offers for company from Wally, Dick, Cass and Clark. After I had promised I would be back in fifteen minutes, they had obliged.

After touring the paved pathways, I came across three other funeral services in various states of progress. The first had been a crew of three parlor attendants setting up flower displays and arranging chairs before the soon to be resting place for the departed individual en route. A quarter of a mile later, I came across two adjacent to one another, both with attendants mourning and saying goodbye to black coffins.

I couldn't help but wonder if they were also victims of the Joker's attack, innocents I had failed to save…

My wristwatch said thirty-seven minutes had passed since my father and Dana had been buried but I had been fairly certain that it had only been seconds. I had long since passed the other services as well as the only other living soul I had come across, a pair of landscapers on riding mowers. The sun was high in the sky, giving off just enough heat to remind me that April was finally giving way to May.

Looking up at the sky, there had been a moment where I had lost my sense of direction. Dropping my gaze, I had spotted a row of familiar stone structures and I had allowed myself to smirk. Even wandering around aimlessly, I had managed to head directly towards her...

Loosening my tie, I had taken a seat in the grass beneath an oak tree directly across from the Bertinelli mausoleum. I had promised myself, and Cass, that I would try and keep myself from drifting back to the dark side that I had turned to after the night at the restaurant. No, I had reminded myself, it had started before, with Cass being shot. With the Firm being attacked. Jim and Maureen. Helena.

And it had ended with Bruce.

For the second time since he had given me the cowl, I had put him in harm's way and nearly into an early grave. The first had been when I had asked for his physical assistance in the investigation of an arson raiding Gotham City. As Matches Malone, deep undercover into Icarus' group, Bruce had nearly died in an explosion. His knee dislocated, he had gone back into a building to save one last suspect, barely surviving the structural collapse. The second time had been far worse, me giving the cowl back to him, practically forcing it onto his head…

… _Think of what I did to him… To all of them…_

"Hey," Cass said, interrupting my reverie.

After she was sitting cross legged next to me, I replied, "I know… it's been more than fifteen minutes."

"A lot more," she said softly, her eyes looking straight ahead.

We were silent for another five minutes before her hand found mine, squeezing it gently. After a few heartbeats, she said, "Miss her."

Picturing Helena's sly grin, I replied, "Me, too."

"Left a legacy."

Mattie's masked face came to mind before I said, "Helena would have gotten a kick out of it… that of all the guises his daughter could have worn, she chose Huntress."

Cass agreed, "She'd laugh."

"Tell him it served him right."

"Payback…"

Wind rustled the broad leaves above our heads and for the longest time, that was the only sound that came to my ears. No voices echoing in my head, or ghosts meeting me at my every cerebral turn. I should have felt peaceful but instead I couldn't overcome a sense of restlessness. The dead were meant to rest in peace, not those that survived.

With a thirty minute ride to Bristol ahead of us, I finally rose to my feet, keeping my hand in Cass's in order to help her up. As we began to walk back together, she said that everyone had left already and that she had called ahead and checked with the caterers. "Everything is ready."

"Think we can swing by the townhouse?" I asked her, "Might as well get an overnight bag. Let the boy out for a bit."

"You want to stay there… tonight?"

I had already informed her that Clark and J'onn intended to watch over Gotham for the night, although I had yet to tell her my plans, "I was going through the things the organizer had moved out of the open rooms where she wanted the reception… Found a thirty year old bottle of Scotch, couple of Cuban cigars… Dick and I were thinking about just sitting on the back terrace and putting them to use."

"So you get a night off… I don't?" she inquired, letting go of my hand.

"Well, do you like Scotch?"

"Don't drink."

"Cigars?"

"Don't smoke."

I paused before thinking of one guilty pleasure she was rarely able to pass on, "… There's a tub of Rocky Road in the freezer."

"… Tempting, but no. Besides, someone needs babysit."

I couldn't help but smile at the thought of Cass trying to order around two of the planet's greatest titans. Then again, she was more than capable of accomplishing such a feat as I had yet to see anyone stand in her way and remain standing…

Before returning to the waiting limo, I paused at the fresh burial sites with a heavy sigh. My attention alternating between the glossy granite headstones and the hundreds of flowers arranged around them. Jackson E. Drake. Dana Catherine Winters-Drake. There was an empty plot to the right of my father's, one I had no intention of occupying anytime soon.

Cass stood behind me and to the left, telling me with her silence that she was there if I needed her, just as she did before we raided a hideout or took on a cargo ship of flunkies. I felt like I should have said something, even though they were unable to hear me. Unlike the night he had died, I couldn't put my thoughts into words, thoughts of all the things left unsaid.

I glanced back to Cass and then it hit me.

"I'm going to try, Dad… I'm going to try to be happy. And not blame myself… it's going to be hard, but… you've always been on my case about not doing things half-ass…" Taking a deep breath I continued, "I'm going marry Cass. I should have told you sooner but I wanted it to be a surprise… Christmas Eve, I proposed to her… with that Magic Eight Ball she unwrapped after dinner… We asked it if Dana really cooked and it said that Alfred had a hand in it."

Soft chuckles escaped my lips, thinking back to that night in the den of the townhouse, when everything in my life had been perfect.

…_Let's try something more serious… Will Cassandra do me the honor… of taking Robbie out one last time to go potty…_

_Better not tell you now._

…_Well in that case, how about… will Cassandra marry me… You have to shake it extra hard this time…_

_Reply Hazy -Try again_.

"I know it's a geeky way to propose… but I'm geeky… And she said yes… And she makes me happy… like Dana makes… made you happy. I didn't think I would find someone like that… Truth be told, I didn't," I glanced around to see her smiling, "She found me."

Looking back to the intricate, laser carved tombstones, there was a long pause before I found the courage to say goodbye.

Finally getting into the limo, I smiled to see Clark, Will and Dick were there waiting for us, each offering a sad smile. After taking a seat beside Cass, I sighed, "I don't know about you guys… but I'm starving."

It was a long ride to Bristol, but in the company of friends, at least it wasn't painfully silent. Will jested Dick on how his tie was crooked and Dick snapped back that Will's abdominal organs were lopsided. Clark, uneasy at the reason for the jokes, had blushed while trying to steer the topic to something normal. Cass ignored their banter and simply raided the little snack and beverage bar, offering to Rock, Paper, Scissor for the bag of white chocolate chip cookies.

Had Bruce been there, he would have grunted at our childlike behavior.

Arriving to the house, I put on the brave front again, chatting with familiar faces and getting to know those that were new. The event organizers had done an amazing job decorating the front rooms of the house, even projecting a slideshow in the formal den of pictures and short video clips of the life and times of Jack and Dana. I couldn't help but laugh at the wedding pictures I had been in, namely at how gawky and young I had looked.

I found Shondra watching the slideshow as well, her dark eyes glassy despite the smile on her face. I stepped up next to her and said, "Missed your statement… how did it go?"

Her eyes never left the screen, "Pretty good, lots of positive feedback on the news so far. I ran into Mr. Fox at the hospital just after and he said it was perfect. Right amount of detail to set things straight and emotion to keep everyone happy."

"Good to hear… how was the consult?"

Shondra hesitated before responding, "Dr. Bachman thinks it's going to take a bit more to get a majority of the flexibility back… At least four surgeries, not including the one scheduled for Tuesday."

I commented, "Bet Bruce wasn't too happy about that."

Shaking her head, she admitted, "No… He… he told me that he would do this first one but that was it."

That didn't sound like Bruce. Rather than point that out, I offered, "Don't worry, he'll change his mind… Or rather Selina will change it for him."

After a few minutes of awkward chatting, I decided to continue on through the ground floor only to discover that the caterers had also gone over the top with a full buffet and an open bar. To accommodate the guests, a tent had been set up in the side yard with a few dozen tables dressed in white and blue tablecloths. Although I had yet to see a bill, the estimate on the contract I had signed earlier in the week had been in the five digits.

Money was the least of my concerns.

After a good hour of talking with attendees, my hunger had risen to the level of famished. Given the stressors of the last week, I had barely slept and only eaten when Cass or Alfred forced food in front of me. I went through the buffet line and filled my plate high with steamed vegetables, Delmonico potatoes, prime rib, spinach ravioli and pumpernickel dinner rolls. As I approached the bar, the tender asked what he could make me and I asked him to surprise me.

And he did, with an elderberry vodka cocktail that made my eyebrows twitch with each sip.

I found a large table in the tent that had one remaining empty chair. The others were occupied by my favorite faces, each doing their best to eat and relax. Nathan was picking on Mattie as she sat beside Terry, earning a reprimand from Selina. I spotted Barbara and Dick trying to feed mashed potatoes to Ethan without getting any on themselves. Clark and Lois were chatting softly with Alfred and Leslie, no doubt inquiring about their ventures in Africa.

My smirk grew when I saw that Roy and Wally were at the adjacent table with J'onn, Diana and other League members that had come to offer their condolences. Save for the brief hours I had spent at the Watchtower last Monday, I hadn't seen much of them in the last few months. Despite the fact that we were all roughly the same age, my former Teen Titans had sequestered themselves at an even smaller table. Cassie and Kara were arguing with Gar, my lip reading telling me that he was chewing with his mouth open.

"About to send a search and rescue party for you," I heard Dick call out.

I took the seat that Cass had saved for me, "Real conspicuous corner of the dining tent."

"Figured we should sequester ourselves… Dinah and Z are around here somewhere… neither are wearing fishnets so it's hard to spot them," Dick laughed before turning his attention to Ethan.

Scanning the faces at the table again, I asked, "Where's Will?"

Barbara spoke up, "He wasn't feeling too great, decided to head home."

"Ah… I had something I wanted to tell him…" I said before shrugging, "Oh well, I'll catch up with him in the morning."

"Morning?" Dick asked, "After tonight, bro, you'll be lucky to see late afternoon."

I smirked before raising my glass to my lips, "I'll drink to that."

The conversations continued as I began to eat and I focused intently on keeping track of those at our table and beyond as a means of keeping my thoughts in line. Allowing them drift without direction had resulted in grievous errors of late, those I had no desire to repeat. With my plate cleared, I had taken to silently staring at nothing or no one in particular. A nimble hand found my knee under the tablecloth and I looked up and nodded at Cass.

For the most part, I was okay and eventually everything _would be _fine.

Not that day or the ones that were soon to follow.

But someday.

^V^

"Might one inquire as to where you two are going?"

Terry and I had been trying to sneak away from the hundred or so people that were at the reception. After sitting through everyone talking at the table, Nathan bugging the crap out of me as well as seeing Tim so sad and tired, I had finally had enough. I had told my mother we were going to go sit inside and watch the slideshow and she had told me to meet her out front in an hour so that we could leave.

Instead of finding a place to sit in the very full den, Terry and I had gotten glass bottled sodas at the bar before heading back towards the kitchen.

"You know where you're going?" he had asked as I led him by the hand.

I had never been inside the Drake house before, but had been bored one afternoon several weeks earlier and had studied the floor plans on the Computer. Instead of telling Terry the truth, I said, "Yeah, I've been here tons of times. There's a terrace out on the side… leads to the pool."

"And we can go out there?"

I had shrugged, "Unless someone stops us."

The someone had been Alfred as he had emerged from the kitchen.

We stopped dead in our tracks as he did his best to conceal a smirk on his face. Rather than show surprise or fear, I was quick to ask, "The caterers kick you out?"

Alfred cleared his throat, "There was no physical ushering involved, my dear."

"They asked you to leave the kitchen?" I inquired with a smile.

"They… might have suggested it." Clearing his throat, Alfred looked us over, "I believe your mother wished to leave within in the hour."

Nodding, I told him that I had already checked in with her and then promised to be out front and ready to go in sixty minutes. He hesitated before taking a step back, allowing us to continue down the hall and towards the door. Terry opened it for me and I waved back to Alfred before exiting the house.

Alone at last.

Terry followed me down the carved stone steps and through the wrought iron gate. I set my orange soda bottle down on the tiled deck before kicking my shoes off and pulling off my knee-high stockings. Given how warm it ended up being, I was thankful my mom had suggested that I wear a skirt instead of pants. I sat down on the lip of the pool in order to let my tired feet soak in the cold water.

As I reached back for the glass bottle, I looked up at Terry, "Well?"

"Uh... Okay," he replied softly, setting his cream soda down beside mine before getting to work on his dress shoes and socks. As he bent over to roll up his slacks, he asked, "So, you're moving home today, right?"

I nodded, "We already dropped Taffy and Ace before we came over here."

"Back to school?" he investigated further. When I nodded, he smiled, "Thank God… We're getting partners in English first thing Monday for the Mice and Men project… I was afraid I'd have to work with Randall… I'd be George, he'd be Lenny…"

Smiling at him, I said, "Don't worry, I'll be your Lenny."

"I'll try not to shoot you…" Terry shook his head, "Sorry, that's was stupid… too soon… After Dick…"

"It's okay, he probably would have laughed at it."

I watched as he sat down next to me, letting his lower legs dip down into the water. Where mine were still, Terry bobbed his back and forth, bouncing his heels off of the pool wall. He then began to move them side to side, purposefully touching his leg to mine. Once our sodas were both gone, Terry said, "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you… this morning."

Before I could tell him it was okay, he continued, "Ever since my mom's funeral… I just… I just can't go to them. I missed my Great-Grandma's… Uncle Paul's… But I should have sucked it up and gone with you."

"I understand… and it's okay."

He nodded, his eyes glued to the after between his knees, "I don't know what it is… something about saying goodbye… but they are already gone… it's too late…"

I remained silent, watching him as he tried to put his thoughts into words. He had been my lifesaver over the last week, keeping my mind off of my messed up life by treating me like everything was normal. As I looked back, I realized it was the first time we had talked alone, face-to-face in over a week about something that wasn't an everyday topic.

He finally sighed, "I can't even imagine what it was like… being there… seeing everything…" Terry paused to look up at me, "I'd be a wreck right now."

"You are a wreck right now," I smirked at him.

"Yeah… I guess so…" he drew a deep breath before saying, "I know I should have asked you earlier…but if you want to vent… Or talk about what happened… I have big ears, as my new haircut clearly exhibits."

My smile grew, "Thanks." When I said nothing more, he sighed and returned his gaze to the water. I explained, "I'm sorry, Terry… It's just that… there's some things I don't want to think about… or talk about… and that night…"

"I understand," he looked up again, forcing a smile. "Can I say something though?" After I nodded, he said, "I'm really glad your Dad was there. To protect you. I mean, I wish he hadn't been hurt but… God, Mattie, that could have been you."

Thinking back to my only night of crime fighting, I told him, "I know… but that's what dads are for. Saving the day."

"Must run in the family," he smirked. No doubt he was recollecting when I had taken out the Niedzlkowksi twins at recess way back in the day. Looking back, I considered it to be my first endeavor into heroism. After a painfully awkward pause, he bumped his shoulder into mine, "Want to go skinny dipping?"

I raised my left eyebrow at him while turning my lips into a slight snarl. Mom had given the same look to my father practically anytime he had come up with an idea on his own, as opposed to running ti by her first. Although not as well versed in it as Mom, I had to fight back a smile when it actually worked.

Terry scooted away an inch, "Can't blame a guy for trying…"

I moved over and leaned against his arm. As we had eaten at the table, he had removed his suit coat and rolled up his sleeves, making him look like Dad after a long day at the office. But where Dad smelled of his expensive cologne, Terry smelled of peppermint gum.

Which was a good thing, I thought, as I leaned in to kiss him.

He was hesitant, nearly as much as I, but after a few seconds he relaxed enough to kiss me back. We really hadn't spent much of our time together doing normal boyfriend and girlfriend things, but after sneaking him into the Manor at the beginning of April, it was always looming over us. It was so awkward at first and yet every second and touch that passed seemed to make the next that much easier.

He turned to face me, his one hand grabbing onto my elbow while the other settled on my hip. I reciprocated the gesture, leaning into him as I teased my tongue across his lips. As his hand began to move up my side, it slipped between us, gently grazing over my chest. I bit his lip in response, pushing myself into his palm while my hand subconsciously drifted to rest on his thigh instead of his hip. A moan rose up from his throat and he suddenly pulled back, quickly turning away from me.

"Oh… uh… I…." he rose to his feet, facing away from me, "How cold do you think the water is?"

Confused, I answered, "I don't know, sixty something… Terry what's-."

Oh.

He seemed to ignore me while pulling his shirt and slacks off, leaving him in boxers and an undershirt. Still avoiding me, he muttered, "Hope it's cold enough," before diving in.

Oh…

I had a slight blush already from kissing but upon realizing the effect it had on him, I felt my ears and cheeks grow hot. Shivering in the water, he swam up to me and smiled with trembling lips, "So… um… yeah, it's cold."

Rather than say anything else, I stood in order to get him a beach towel from the bathroom just inside the house. I donned my shoes, neglecting my stockings. Trying to play it cool, I said, "I'm going to go see if my mom was ready to go."

"Okay… I'll… be like a couple minutes."

I nodded and promptly turned to leave. Walking back through the throng of people, I bit my lip to keep the embarrassed smile on my face under control. Apparently I had some learning to do from Piper and Katarina…

I found my family standing together in one of the open rooms, each of them bidding farewell to Tim save for Dick. Barbara, Ethan in tow, paused next to me and kissed my cheek, "See you tomorrow morning… girl's brunch party at the Manor."

Waited to step forward until Cass had hugged and kissed Tim, I smiled after she whispered something in his ear that made him nod. When he spotted me, Tim said, "Was wondering where you ran off to."

"Terry and I went out to sit by the pool."

Mom looked around and asked, "Well then where is he?"

"He…" I started before deciding to cover for him, "I dared him to jump in, because the water was cold."

Tim laughed while my mother rolled her eyes, "Mattie…"

"What, it was a dare. It's not like I pushed him in," I tried to defend my lie.

Tim helped me out, "That's okay, it was certainly warm enough outside for a quick dip." He knelt before me to be eyelevel and I had to force myself not to look at his disguised cheek. "Thanks, Mattie. For being there this morning."

"That's what sidekicks do, right?" I asked, coking my head slightly, "Cover your back."

He laughed again before embracing me, whispering in my ear, "That's exactly what they do."

By the time he released me and rose to his feet, Terry had joined us, the only difference from his previous appearance had been his damp, combed back hair. He shook Tim's hand sheepishly and then smiled when he was congratulated on being the first one in the pool for the year. At that, Nathan suddenly snapped out of his tired daze, asking our mother if we could go swimming when we got home.

Although we were next doors, we didn't arrive home until thirty minutes later. We dropped Terry off at his house and I walked him to the door in order to hide behind one of the tall, groomed shrubs surrounding the front deck. I kissed his cheek and smiled, "Park tomorrow?"

"Uh, sure." As I turned to leave, he called out, "Mattie? I… except for the whole funeral thing… I had fun today."

"Me, too," I remarked before kissing him again, "Nerd."

Thankfully, Nathan fell asleep on the ride back to our house so rather than have to listen to him plead with Mom for some time in the indoor pool, she carried him upstairs and put him to bed. I heard Alfred vacuuming on the second floor and rather than disturb his vigilant desire to get the Manor back up to par, I went to my room.

Collapsing on my bed for the first time in far too long, I stared up at my ceiling until Taffy sauntered over and began rubbing her chin on my forehead. I rolled over and buried my face into her soft side in order to return to sign of affection, causing her to purr loudly. Being home was the first step to getting things back to normal, but for some reason I didn't feel like it was.

The first real step would be when Dad came home. When I spent my days at school and my weekends at the barn and gymnastic meets. Alfred and I would cook dinner every night and we'd watch movies in the den afterwards. And Dad had promised me something, once the Joker was caught…

A knock on the door caused both Taffy and I to jump but where my cat decided to scamper off, I simply sat up I called out to my visitor to come not, not at all surprised to see it was my mother She had changed from dreary garb into jeans and a plum colored chiffon cami under a fitted, thigh length cardigan. I had yet to change and was still wearing my black, knee length skirt and short sleeved blouse.

"Hey," I said as she stepped into the room.

She didn't reply until she was sitting beside me, "Alfred is going to keep an eye out for Nathan… Want to come with me, say good night to Dad?"

"You aren't staying there tonight?"

She shook her head, "No... he and I had a talk this morning… we all need to try and get things back to normal."

My thoughts exactly.

We made good time getting back to Gotham, the ride silent for the radio. After parking in the visitor's lot, Mom said for me to go upstairs to Dad's room while she went to the cafeteria. When I had questioned her that I was to go by myself, she smiled, "You can take out bad guys but you can't go in an elevator alone?"

I made it to the ICU and signed in at the nurse's station, promptly earning questions about where the rest of the Family was. I told the eldest nurse that my mom was coming up shortly but that it was just us for the night.

She nodded and replied, "I'm sure he'd love to spend some time with his girls… He just had his night time meds so he might be a little sleepy."

I yawned, "That's okay, I'm sleepy too."

Before entering his room, I stared through the window set into the wall. The blinds were down but left angled just enough that I could see him laying in the gurney. His eyes were focused on the television mounted on the wall and I looked to see it was a replay of Shondra's press statement followed by a montage of footage of him over the years. When it went to commercial, I rapped on the door and he slowly looked to me.

"Kitten," he said softly.

"Hey, Dad," I replied as I entered. Rather than sit in one of the chairs, I opted to climb onto the right side of the gurney.

He blinked at me slowly, his mouth twitching into a fraction of a smirk, "Where is everyone?"

I answered, to the best of my knowledge, "Alfred and Nate stayed home, Mom brought me down. She said she would be up in a few minutes. Tim and Dick are back in Bristol, Barbara and Ethan went home… and I'm here."

"That you are…" he slowly reached for the remote, shutting the television off as the news came back on.

Earlier in the week, we had spent time alone talking about my escape from the Watchtower, arriving in Crime Alley and the hellish hours that had followed. I did my best to keep the fear in check while talking it over with him, but rather than force every detail out of me, he had said that when I was ready that I would tell him. He had to force himself to be upset that I had disobeyed direct orders and left the safety of my temporary guardians. After I had explained how I had gotten my suit out of the safe along with the ghost access card to facilitate the teleportation home, he had smiled.

…_that's my girl.._

He had only been in the hospital for a week but it looked as if it had been much longer. As a result of the stressful injuries, surgeries and medication, he had lost weight, his skin was pale and dry and his eyes were too calm. Mom said that my brother and I had inherited his best physical trait, piercing blue eyes that were always alive and bright. I had been looking at him and the tubes and bandages and listening to the monitors and the chatting in the corridor and smelling the antiseptics and disinfectants all week long.

For the first time, I couldn't stand it.

"It's okay, kitten," he soothed as I fell into his arms, tears pouring over my cheeks. I felt him rubbing my back gently, the splint on his fingers making me think back to the night in the Cave where he had punched Dick.

"Everything is fine."

Back then, I had thought that things couldn't have been any worse.

"Shhh, kitten."

Sobs wracked me and I anchored myself by looping my arms around his neck. He continued offering whatever physical and verbal reassurance that he could muster, although it had no impact.

"It's all right."

I eventually ran out of tears on my own, my breath growing tight in my chest.

"Breathe, Mattie, just breathe."

I had almost lost him.

"It's okay."

At some point, I finally managed to relax, to sigh rather than sob. He kissed my brow as I rested my chin on his chest, "Better?"

"Yeah," I found myself smiling.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of his heartbeat, physically and digitally.

Finally, he said, "That's my girl."

^V^


	20. Now And Then: XX

Title: Now And Then: XX

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The Family, and Bruce, start on the road to recovery.

Rating: T

Infringement: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has stuck on for the last year or so, I hope this final chapter brings some smiles after the previous ones have brought us so much pain… Keep an eye out for the epilogue!

^V^

The night before June fifteenth, I mentally mapped out the next day as I sat alone on the terrace. I was going to sleep in, share breakfast in bed with my husband and spend the day outside given the perfect forecast. Tending to gardens with Alfred and the kids, napping out on the terrace and having a picnic out on the lawn. I wasn't upset that we wouldn't be celebrating our anniversary in our usual style. The fact that I wasn't celebrating it alone made up for it.

Not six weeks after the fall of the Joker, Dick and Barbara were back to being doting parents to their son. Tim and Cass were back to spending their days at work and their nights on rooftops. Will was starting life anew, moving into the townhouse with Ronna and the girls, every weekend now and two months of the coming summer vacation. Even Alfred and Leslie had found peace, living together at the Manor… even if only for a interim period.

As for my children, Mattie had returned to wrap up her first year in middle school and was getting ready for a regional gymnastic competition after missing numerous practices. Similarly, Nathan was a soon to be graduate of Bristol Elementary's kindergarten class. He was also counting down the days until August twenty-third when he would be ready to try out for the Junior Pee Wee football team.

Interestingly enough, I had yet to find my normal routine. I hadn't been to the Preserve in nearly three months, keeping tabs on things through e-mails and quick phone calls. The summer was already booked full with groups and organizations wanting to attend the educational tours and activity center. At some point, I had to get back to work, get back to the way things were…

But I couldn't leave Bruce, not yet.

The morning of June fifteenth marked the end of his fourth week home from the hospital. Before coming home, he had undergone two cranial surgeries, abdominal and thoracic reconstruction, laparoscopic heart surgery, two orthopedic surgeries and had overcome pneumonia. Even ignoring the vast number of surgeries in such a short time, Bruce was a living medical miracle, having survived the injuries sustained in the fall and the subsequent cardiac arrests. His doctors had encouraged him stay in the recovery ward for another week, but the combined bargaining efforts of Leslie and Shondra had given him a ticket home.

The date also marked the end of his bed rest and strict orders to remain calm and quiet. He had been weaned off of the heart medication and sedatives, both of which had wrecked havoc on his internal gyroscope and stomach. The digoxin he took for his heart had caused severe nausea, something Bruce had not tolerated well. On one long, painful evening, Bruce had flushed the bottle of pills down the toilet, growling to himself that was where they would end up anyway.

Free from the hindering meds and bed rest, he was finally ready to begin the physical therapy necessary to try and rebuild all he had lost, or at least what he was able to.

There were changes beyond the physical being. Changes I had ignored during the first week after he had woken up, although the others had been insistent on bringing them to my attention. I thought it was very Bruce-like not to talk about what had happened and that the injuries and meds made him stare off into oblivion and he naturally would have been broody about how different life was going to be from then on…

The night before he came home, I had finally opened my eyes.

Alfred had brought the kids down to the hospital so they could say good night to their father. I had watched on as Bruce offered half-hearted hugs and quiet words and for the first time I hadn't been able to blame his behavior on the pain or exhaustion. After they had departed, I had closed the door and simply stared at him from a distance. Outwardly, he had looked like death warmed over even though there should have been some elation over the fact that we were going home in the morning. At the least he should have been looking in my direction, wondering why I had been studying him so intently.

Instead, he had simply stared down at his lap, breathing in and out as if it was the only task he could focus on.

"Bruce?" I had asked softly. He had his hearing aides in, so there had been no reason for him not to hear me. When I had repeated myself, I had been walking over to him, drawing his attention with movement.

"What did you say?" he had responded as his eyes found my face.

I had taken a seat on the edge of the gurney before continuing, "Are you okay?"

… _I'm not fine… I'm broken… _

After taking his right hand into mine, I had subconsciously traced my fingertips over the splints encasing his pinkie and ring fingers, thinking of sitting beside him over a month earlier. That night, sitting in the Cave, he had been mentally and emotionally defeated after failing to solve the Joker's clue, leading to the deaths of hundreds. And much like then, he had been so quiet and reserved. Barely participating in conversations with the Family, nodding softly during discussions about his health and offering weak attempts at civility to curious detectives and visitors alike.

The only time he had managed to seem somewhat like his usual self was when the kids were around and I had come to accept that had only been a performance.

He had sighed quietly and I had anticipated a lie to pass through his lips. I had always been direct with him, whether it be on a windy rooftop or in the quiet of the den. I had to be direct with him, no one else dared to.

"Am I _okay_?" he had asked, looking around his recovery room.

"You know what I mean."

"I know." Surprisingly enough, Bruce had been honest with me. "And I'm not… but… I will be."

I had bit my lip briefly before asking, "Got an ETA on being okay? I miss my grumpy, moody husband… This quiet, distant thing… doesn't do it for me."

"Duly noted," he had responded, gently squeezing my hand with his uninjured digits.

Leaving the hospital had done little for his disposition, namely because he still faced months of pain and rehabilitation before he was able to live his life in the realm of normal human function. Discussing it with Alfred, he had been quick to point out that Bruce had endured so many tragic injuries in his lifetime that he felt it wasn't the cause. Over an early morning cup of tea, I had replied, "It's… psychological. I know, but still…"

Alfred had interrupted, "Where Master Bruce has endured many grievous injuries, he has not succumbed to more than a handful of true losses in combat, not of this stature. And to lose in such a way… to him of all of his foes…"

It hadn't been a foreign concept to me, that Bruce had been depressed over his loss to his greatest nemesis. Not only had Alfred suggested it, but so had Dick and Mattie, equally concerned for their father's well being and state of mind.

_I'm not… but… I will be…_

"Mom?"

Looking up from the white gold wedding band in my palm, I glanced to the glass doors separating the terrace from the master bedroom. I smiled at Nathan, "What's up?"

He walked over to me, the cuffs of his pajama pants dragging on the ground, "Movie's over."

"Already?" I asked. He and Bruce had been watching Where the Wild Things Are in our bed, a nightly movie having become a ritual in Wayne Manor. Given how much time Bruce spent in bed, Tim had brought over a small flat screen, a Blu-Ray player and a broad collection of movies and TV box sets to help him pass the time. Namely, the kids had put it to use while Bruce simply dozed off after the opening credits of each movie they picked out.

"Yeah…" Nathan yawned before adding, "And Dad fell asleep… even before Max ran away from home."

I kissed my son's brow as he leaned against my chair, "He had a long day, Nate… Besides, he needs to rest up for tomorrow… we all do. Lots of fun things to do…" When I rose to my feet, I put Bruce's wedding ring onto my thumb, "Why don't you go wash up… I'll be over in a minute to tuck you in."

"Okay," he stated before trudging back into the bedroom, Ace silently tracking after him. I followed as well, watching as Nathan tentatively approached the bed and stood up on his toes to kiss Bruce's motionless face, "Night, Dad." He then planted another kiss on a black furry head as it slept beside Bruce, "Night, Kitten."

Kitten. Of all the names Bruce could have chosen for the fateful feline that had come into our lives he had chosen the improper noun to act as the formal one. Mattie had already asked him what would happen when the young animal was older and no longer a kitten.

Bruce had replied, deadpan of course, "I'll call him Cat."

Although Bruce had never had an affinity for Isis or Taffy, he had spent the duration of his bed rest lounging with Kitten. On more than one occasion, I had found him offering scraps of his meals with his new companion, talking to him softly and even allowing the small animal to sleep on his chest. Under the blankets. Because it was chilly.

Once Nathan had left, I turned the television off and set the remote down on the night table occupied with pill bottles, antibiotic ointments and prepared syringes of morphine. The clear hearing aid box just barely in my peripheral vision as it sat to the right of his fast-acting chewable tegretol tablets. As I took a seat on the mattress, I felt my chest grow tight.

He was on his right side, the vacant space between him and the edge of the bed taken up by Kitten's sleeping figure. I stroked the feline's fluffy head before leaning over and putting my lips to Bruce's ear, "Darling?"

"Hmm?" he replied without opening his eyes.

"I'm going to go tuck Nate in… when I get back, it's bath time."

He grumbled to himself, of which I loosely translated as "Don't wanna bath."

Forcing a smile to my lips in order to camouflage the strain in my voice, I said, "It's bad enough you stink up my bed with liniment and antiseptic, Bruce."

"Our bed," he growled, his eyes still closed.

I sat upright, patting his hip while I forced out a joke, "Keep telling yourself that."

Before going to Nathan's bedroom, I took a side trip to the bathroom to start filling the tub. The extra time allowed me to mask the emotional unrest in order to coerce my son to carry out the bedtime rituals. As I watched him brush his teeth, I realized I had yet to call Mattie to check in for the night, quickly deciding it wasn't worth disturbing her fun. Following weeks of chaos, she had decided to go to a sleepover at her friend Piper's house. A night with her girls, I could think of nothing better for my daughter.

"All clean," Nate announced after spitting into the sink.

Walking after him, I watched as Nathan leapt onto his bed, attacking a plush football with a vigor. When I pulled the covers up and over top of his head, I kissed the blanket, "See you in the morning."

Once he had freed himself, Nathan smiled up at me, "Can Ace sleep in my bed?" After denying him, he sighed and collapsed into his pillows, "Can I sleep in his bed?"

"No, you each can sleep in your own beds."

Another exasperated sigh later, he agreed, bidding me good night as I turned to leave his room. When I shut the light off and closed the door behind me, I heard his quiet voice, "Ace, come here, boy."

Returning to the master bedroom, I was surprised to see Bruce sitting upright in bed, his feet already over the edge and resting on the floor. It had obviously taken a considerable amount of effort given how intently he was trying to control his breathing. I had learned long ago that offering help was futile, increasingly so the more grievously he was ill or injured. The fact that he accepted my offer to help him to his feet was unnerving.

Leaving him to slowly shuffle to the bathroom, I went ahead to check the tub, turning the water off just as it reached two-thirds full. As difficult as it had been to deal with the meds and the appointments and the bed rest, sponge baths had been the one medical treatment I enjoyed. Bruce looked at soaking in the Jacuzzi tub in our bathroom as a way to increase circulation and stimulate his lethargic muscles. I saw it as the single thing that had actually remained normal between us…

I didn't turn around as he stepped onto the tiled floor, "Black raspberry vanilla or white citrus?"

"What, no mango mandarin popsicle soap left?" he countered.

I couldn't help but laugh softly at Bruce's detest for my aromatic soap collection as he was a firm believer in a plain old bar of Dial. Taking a seat on the edge of the tub, I looked up at him as he set his crutches against the counter, "Sorry, all out."

Where my smile had been genuine, his appeared to be forced. Rising to my feet, I retrieved towels from the small closet towards the back of the spacious room while Bruce carefully removed his flannel pants. Bending at the waist still took an extraordinary amount of effort, not because it was difficult to do but because it was painful. As he guided the left leg over his thigh length cast, he asked, "Mattie all right?"

Putting the folded towels down on the countertop, I nodded, "Of course… Piper's dad will drop her off around noon tomorrow."

He winced as he stood on his right leg in order to slowly kick off the left leg of the pajama pants. The cast itself was already covered in graffiti and drawings, from members of the Family young and old. My personal favorite had been from Tim, written in German as to not translate to the kids: _Cats land on their feet, not bats_. Bruce had initially lied to me about what it had said but Tim had been quick to clarify.

A very Bruce thing to do.

He chose to don the protective plastic cover by himself, leaving me to climb out of my clothes and into warm, steamy heaven. His left leg temporarily waterproof, Bruce straddled the edge, injured leg in first. Baring his weight with his arms, he pivoted towards me, bringing his right leg in before slowly dropping into the tub.

I hadn't meant to stare but he noticed, "I know… Still a process."

Without skipping a beat, I retorted, "_You're _still a process."

Finally, a real smirk, even if just for a second.

After soaking for a few silent minutes, I took to washing him after we mutually decided that the least feminine soap was Midnight Pomegranate. He let his head fall back, his lids slipping closed over tired eyes. I tried to focus on the task at hand but found myself staring at the fresh scars that marked his torso. The ragged lacerations that had literally been carved into his sides by the Joker had been reduced to red, bumpy lines. He had been referred to a plastic surgeon but Bruce Wayne the hero had declined.

It was the surgically precise scar that traveled down his sternum that always sent a shiver down my spine.

I let the loofah go in the water in order to trace my fingers down the line that marked where they had cracked his chest open. The top of the scar overlapped the ends of faint pink lines that diagonally hashed his left pectoral, where I had left my mark on him so many years ago. It wasn't until I felt Bruce's hand cupping my cheek that I realized I was crying.

"Soap in your eyes?" he offered as he dropped his left hand to cover mine, pressing it to his chest.

"Yeah, something like that…" I replied, staring down at his bare hand. Removing my hand from under his, I pulled the ring off of my thumb and proceeded to put it back onto him.

He was watching intently but showed no interest in saying anything.

I said, "This is the last time… I'm giving it back to you."

"I understand," he nodded, but where his lips were solemn, his eyes showed a hint of life for the first time in far too long.

"Do you, Mr. Wayne?" I inquired, moving in close enough so that my lips were inches from his.

"I do, Mrs. Wayne," he answered before his lips gently grazed mine. His right hand slipped from my face in order to gently cup the back of my head and his left smashed a handful of pomegranate bubbles into my cheek.

^V^

At a little after four-thirty in the morning, I should have been heading to Bristol to log patrols before making my way home. At the very least, I should have checked in with Barbara before signing off, letting her know that all was well and she was clear to call it a night if desired. Or maybe even contact Cass and tell her I was wrapping things up and I would meet her back at the house.

Instead, I was on the other side of the city, breaking into Arkham Asylum.

With the Joker sleeping away the rest of his days in a natural vegetative state, two of his former allies remained within Gotham City limits. BoBo was in Blackgate, unwavering and silent as he recovered from a fractured jaw among other injuries I had dealt him during his apprehension. Harley had returned to her incarceration at the asylum, silent and depressed at the loss of her beloved Mistah J. I had visited her a number of times in the weeks that had passed, each time finding her pretending to sleep in her cell as a way of ignoring me.

I had to talk to her, whether she wanted to or not.

Opting for the distraction of deactivating the security cameras on the far end of the maximum security wing, I walked down the hall rather than crawl through the walls. Given how often our work required entry into the asylum, Bruce had invented a thermal control sole for our boots that would match the temperature of the floor in order to trick the heat sensors. The other security measures were easily bypassed with a remote scrambler that confused the motion sensors and laser checkpoints.

Harley had been put into maximum security given that she had used her internment in the regular ward as a means to plan and execute her and the Joker's escape more than six months earlier. The cells themselves lined only the eastern wall as a way to deter the inmates from seeing and communicating with one another. She was situated between the two sole female inmates on the ward, Poison Ivy and Magpie.

When I passed Pamela Isley's cell, she glanced up from her bed and growled something that sounded like, "Get a life..."

As expected, Harley did not stir as I gently rapped on the glass door.

Nor did she rise when I unlocked it and stepped inside.

"Harley."

Nothing but quiet, fake snores.

"Harley. I know you can hear me."

She rolled away from me, burying her head under the covers. Before I said her name a third and final time, I heard her say, "I kept thinking… If I slept… and dreamt… I could have been with him."

Her daily records over the last few weeks said that she spent nearly every hour in bed, sleeping, crying and staring at her single personal possession: a mug shot photo of her Puddin'. The fact that they had once again been separated had been a relief to us all but it had been torture for her. For years, Harley's identity had been dependent on the Joker and without him, she was lost. The way she had been ignoring me during my previous visits, her acknowledgement was a surprise.

I started to wonder if someone had explained to her that he was never coming back…

"Harley, we need to talk."

Still facing the wall, she replied, "I know… but you don't gotta worry… Can't tell anyone… Mistah J made me promise… no matter what… Can't break my promise to him… he'd be so mad at-."

"Harley…"

"- and I wouldn't want him mad at me… not when he's not feeling good… even though he was smiling when they took him away, I know it wasn't a real smile…"

Not knowing if it was my only opportunity to talk with her before the silent treatment resumed, I asked, "And Bobo?"

"He didn't know nothing'…" she let out a staggered sigh.

"How is that possible?" I asked, thankful that the dark room masked my surprise.

Harley shook her head under the blankets, "Mistah J said… worked too hard to just give it away… even to Bobo…"

"He interrogated Huntress, he tortured her…" I remained silent at that point, allowing her to answer my unasked questions.

… _No, no… please…_

She sighed quietly before proceeding, "… He didn't know… she never said nothin'."

… _I'm… sorry…_

My throat closed tight after I managed to ask, "What?"

_Old Catholics never die…_

"Mistah J said he knew… just wanted to make sure. Wouldn't want to hurt some innocent family…"

_They just get stuck in confession…_

"How did he know?" I found myself asking, sounding like anything but the world's greatest detective.

"Puddin'… so smart… always had the best plans…"

"Harley…"

"I don't blame you… He said it was going to get ugly… if Bats didn't take him down, you would…"

"How did he know, Harley?"

Pausing, she rolled over to face me, her heart shaped face pale, her piercing blue eyes bloodshot with tears, "He knew Bats would come back though… never had a plan to get to you…"

"Why's that?" I asked softly.

The smile that came to her lips seemed out of place as she said, "He didn't know who you were… Drove him crazy…"

Despite all that she had done, on her own will and on behalf of her worse half, it was impossible not to pity her. She had once been a promising clinical psychiatrist, wanting to do what she could in rehabilitating the criminally insane. Instead, the Joker had pushed her off of the edge of reason, bringing her down to his level. I had always wondered if there was any of Harleen Quinzel still alive or if all she had left was her mad love for a clown.

For the first time since I had taken down the Joker, I tried to put myself in her place, having lost all that she had loved…

She whispered, "I just thought… it would be like it always was, where everyone walked away… But it was only you and me… no one else… Sidekick luck…"

There had to be something left of her, or else she wouldn't have talked to me…

I swallowed hard before speaking, "Harley, it wasn't luck. It was fate."

She was silent for a moment, reluctantly sitting up and pushing aside her cotton blanket, "Fate?"

"How many times could you have killed one of us in the last few months… years even? And you didn't. Why is that?" When she shook her head silently, I answered for her, lightening the growl in my voice, "Because you were never supposed to. You were… you are a good person…"

"What _am _I supposed to do?" she asked, her glassy eyes locked onto my masked face.

She had no answer for me.

I had no answer for her.

The drive to Bristol was the longest one yet.

After showering and changing into sweats, sneakers and a wrinkled gray tee shirt, I collapsed into the sole chair of the computer bay. The night had been fairly quiet, excluding the trip to Arkham and fighting with Demonz thugs in the Bowery. I reached into the small fridge that I had under the counter and retrieved three gel ice packs. Using a roll of medical tape, I secured two of them to my left shoulder and bicep where I had taken a chance and yet brutal hit from an aluminum baseball bat. The final ice pack went to the top of my head, doing battle with an oncoming headache.

"Ahh," I sighed as I reclined into the back of the chair.

"Trying evening, Master Tim?"

I sat upright quickly, turning the chair to look for Alfred in the darkness of the Cave. As he stepped up to the computer bay's elevated platform, I replied, "No, just a long one."

"I feel that all nights as the Batman are long ones, sir."

Turning back to the computer screen, I nodded, "Agreed…" As I brought up the logs, I asked, "How goes it in Castle Wayne?"

"Well enough, sir… Save for Miss Mattie who is attending a sleepover, the household is snug in their beds."

The corner display on the monitor showed it to be quarter after five and as much as I longed to be snug in my bed, I had at least an hour of work in the Cave ahead of me. Following that, Cass and I were due in Bryanttown to help Will and Ronna assemble furniture and finish unpacking. Once Dick had found out they were moving in to the townhouse, he had been quick to supply all new furniture, a further attempt to undo the suffering we had unintentionally brought upon Will.

The first of June, we had moved the last of our belongings out of the house and up to Bristol. We had touched it up by staining the hardwood floors and painting the upstairs bedrooms, allowing the girls to help paint their new their rooms on the weekend when they had visited. Will had tried to help cover the costs, but once again we had refused, pointing out that there was nothing we could do to set things right, but it wasn't going to stop us from trying.

Seeing the big townhouse empty had reminded me of when we had finished remodeling it more than six years earlier. Back then, Bruce and Selina hadn't even decided as to whether or not they wanted a second child, Mattie was a precocious six-year-old who liked to do handstands, Dick and Barbara had only been engaged for a few months and Cass and I were barley into our twenties and yet more mature than any member of our Family. And Jim Gordon was alive and well…

Now, Bruce and Selina had to corral a soon to be first grader, Mattie was determined to be an active vigilante by the fall, Dick and Barbara had a family of their own, I was going to be twenty-nine years old in July and Cass and I were still the most mature members of the Family. I had given up our identities to Will, buried my father and step-mother, given up and reclaimed the cowl in a manner of months.

So much had changed and yet it felt as if nothing was different.

"There is a divine quiche in the oven, sir… would you-."

"No, thanks, Al… we're supposed to do breakfast in Bryanttown before helping Will and Ronna out for the morning."

"No rest for the weary," Alfred mused.

"Or the wicked," I added.

Since I only needed to flesh out the highlights of the night's log and add in a side note about another fruitless trip to Arkham, I excused myself and promised Alfred I would drop by that afternoon for cold quiche and tea.

He inquired, "And to work with young Miss Mattie, I presume?"

"We'll see… Selina said she was still in hot water over the Great Watchtower Escape… but if she went to a sleepover, I guess she's off the hook on the ban of extracurricular activities…"

Alfred countered, "Not that said ban stopped you from tutoring her in the last few weeks."

Busted.

"Al… It was only computer work… assembling and disassembling utility belts…"

He cleared his throat, "Of course, sir… Now if you will excuse me, the quiche is waiting."

I smiled as he turned crisply and walked into the abyss. Although Mattie's return to school and gymnastic practices had occupied a considerable amount of time, she had still requested to continue her crime fighting education. Being forbidden from sparring and working with Cass on martial arts, I had decided that as a mean of punishment, she would catch up on logs and files I had pre-selected as being educational but painfully dry reads. I had also asked her to work on maintaining equipment in the costume vault as well as cleaning around the Cave.

No doubt Alfred had caught her red-handed and she had squealed.

I made a mental not to beef up her resistance to interrogation.

Logging off the crays at twenty of seven, I rose to my feet and yawned while stretching out my arms and back. Removing the tape, I replaced the ice packs to their shelf in the fridge and began shutting the system down. Leaving through the tunnel towards the house, I activated the lockdown, bidding good night to the bats returning from a night of feasting. Most nights, I jogged the short trek to the house but I found myself too tired and sore to do anything beyond a slow walk.

Passing into the side entrance of my father's house, I was greeted by an enthusiastic Robbie, ready for his early morning romp in the yard. Letting him out, I watched as he awkwardly loped around the side yard before getting to business. Refreshed, he raced back indoors and towards the kitchen. Following him, I yawned again, "Take it easy, pup, I'm coming."

He sat beside the kitchen counter, his entire body wiggling with excitement and anticipation. After I measured out his breakfast, I set the porcelain bowl on the floor before giving him the okay to gobble it down, "Eat."

Knowing sleep was futile, I opted to recline in the leather chair in the den, kicking my shoes off before setting them into the overstuffed ottoman. The curtains on the bay window on the far wall were pulled back, exposing pre-dawn light as it started piercing the dark sky. Most mornings, deer made their way out of the woods after they were certain that Robbie wasn't outside to chase them.

Out of the three of us, he was the most thrilled with the move out of the city into the country. Cass had to buy a white noise machine to simulate the city street life, unable to find peace with the near silent environment. Interestingly enough, when we had moved into the city, I had trouble adjusting to the hub bub after growing up in Bristol. We both agreed that the suburb had a serious lack of late night Chinese food delivery services.

Belly full, Robbie joined me in the den, settling on the carpet with a huff. Where snores quickly began to escape his lips, I found myself staring out the window, waiting for timid signs of life to appear. It seemed as if the hours following patrols had always been the most mentally unrelenting but in the last few weeks I had found them being the calmest. Deed done, services rendered, my mind and body found the time to be quiet and relaxing.

Calm before the storm… or simply finding my place in the world?

I promised him I would try to be happy…

And so far, I was keeping my word.

Cass, who had headed home around the same time I had been visiting with Harley, entered the den just after eight in the morning, bearing a cup of coffee and a plate of waffles. I had deduced that she had made her way downstairs and into the kitchen evident when Robbie had left my side in order to beg for a second breakfast. I had heard her laugh at him, "Silly Robbie."

As she set the coffee down on the end table between the chair and the couch, she chose to take a seat on the ottoman between my resting legs. I smiled as she put the plate on my lap, stabbing a fork through the stack of waffles.

"Eat."

"Woof." She glared at me and I added, "Yes, ma'am."

Cass sat and watched as I worked on the stack, which had been meticulously drizzled with real maple syrup. Of my inheritance, the only thing that had truly been put to use save for the house had been the Belgian waffle maker. Every Saturday for the last six weeks, Cass had tried her hand at making a variety of fancy waffles, ranging from white chocolate chip macadamia nut to waffle boats dressed with black raspberry ice cream and fresh berries. Needless to say, it was enough to make me pass up on Alfred's cooking.

With my plate empty, I set it down on the table beside the still too hot coffee, "Correct me if I'm wrong… but was that a cherry cheesecake waffle?"

Cass nodded, "It was."

I leaned forward, kissing her on the lips, "Wow… I could marry a girl like you."

"Could you?" she replied, kissing my rough cheek before pulling away, "When are we leaving?"

Sitting back myself, "I told Will around nine-thirty… he promised all you can eat for the day… So probably Dick will show up at some point…" I smiled, knowing Dick had already invited himself over to help, not that a one-armed mover was helpful. After taking a tentative sip of coffee, I continued, "And then I was thinking about going over to work with Mattie… maybe talk to Bruce before the dinner."

"How about I work with Mattie… so you can talk to Bruce."

"You are very bossy this morning."

"So?" she replied, her face void of humor.

"So… I like it."

Replacing the fork on the plate, Cass leaned forward, resting her head on my chest, "Did you see Harley again?"

"Yeah… after patrols…"

"She say anything this time?"

I hesitated, kissing the top of her head before answering, "No. Not a word."

^V^

"What about the last weekend in June?"

Dick, who was laying flat on the floor while Ethan sat on top of him, replied, "Can't, going to that consultancy conference in Philly. Need to get more certifications and positive publicity to get business back up to speed."

"Well then we can't go Fourth of July, flying will be a nightmare," I sighed at the calendar on my Blackberry, "Weekend after that is Nathan's birthday-."

"And our anniversary… I remembered, see?" Dick offered.

Ignoring him, I continued, "Then it's Tim's birthday… and I want to take Ethan to the strawberry festival the weekend after that… Then there's the trip to the Preserve-."

"Babs, you can go to the Preserve anytime, in fact I know the lady who runs it."

"Dick."

"Barbara," he countered, looking up at me with a smirk was Ethan started making motorcycle noises.

I shook my head, "Your daddy makes mommy very frustrated, Ethan."

Dick looked over his left shoulder, bearing his weight on his good arm, "And your mommy makes your daddy very horn-."

I cut him off, "We could go next week."

"Doctor's appointment," Dick piped up again, "But I can reschedule…"

"No… not with your physical therapy starting in July…"

After Ethan had crawled off of him, Dick pushed himself to sit upright, "No, we should go next week. Fly out tomorrow, fly back Saturday... Or even Sunday. Tim, Cass and Will are all back to work now… Bruce is off of sedation, he can run the Oracom…"

Following breakfast, Dick and I had been trying to figure out a week that would be feasible for a visit to Chicago. Given that everyone had seemed to find their way back to normalcy, I wanted to make the trip to see Jim, Mo and Sarah before life turned upside down again. They had planned on having their wedding in July but had opted to postpone until the end of September, making the planning an even bigger nightmare.

Dick's suggestion to just leave was unfavorable but realistically, it was the only time slot that worked. "I'll call Jim… and maybe we can steal the G-5. Spare others from flying with Ethan."

Dick defended our son, "Hey, my boy's been to outer space, he can handle a three hour flight… although his trek to outer space took less than thirty seconds… and he still cried."

"Exactly. We can ask Bruce when we go up tonight."

"We're going up tonight?"

"It's their anniversary… did you forget?"

"Ours is more important to me… and shouldn't they celebrate that… together? Like, _alone _together?"

"Don't worry," I patted his head, "I doubt Bruce is feeling _that _well, not yet… Mattie is planning a surprise dinner for them. Wanted us all to be in attendance."

He paused, watching as Ethan chased after Frank, "Wow… haven't had a Family dinner in a while…"

"Precisely… Now, were you still going to Will's?" When he nodded in confirmation, I proceeded, "Okay, so Ethan and I will be going out to run some errands… then I have to get some work done this afternoon so you need to be back here by one."

"What if I have some work that needs to be done?" Dick put on a firm, stoic look.

I glared down at him over the rim of my glasses and he caved.

"Sounds like a plan," he offered. "Should we get them a gift? For their anniversary and to coax the full use of the private jet?"

Nodding, I explained, "Well, unfortunately pearls are the twelfth year theme…"

"Ouch," he commented as he rose to his feet.

"Exactly, so we, or rather I, ended up having silver frames engraved with grandparent sayings and put those black and white photos of Ethan in them."

"Nice, personal and tasteful. I would have gotten Bruce a cane with flame decals and Selina a book on being sexy after forty."

"To go along with the Weight Watchers book from Christmas?" I smirked.

He shook his head at me before he pursued Ethan and the dog, "Cold, Babs… so cold."

Alone, I set a timer to call Jim in an hour. It was only eight in the morning in Chi-town and I knew he was not a merry conversationalist until at least nine. Thankfully, he had been accepted back at his interior architecture firm after his brief time in Gotham. He had been back to work for four weeks, happy for the distraction. Mo, on the other hand, had decided to stay at home with Sarah, still not willing to let got of what had happened.

I had chatted with him every week since they had left Gotham, promising to visit as soon as things had settled on the home front. For the entire month of May, I had been convinced that nothing would ever settle, between consoling Selina, trying to pick up the pieces of Gotham's vigilantes and also coming to terms that the Joker was gone, once and for all. In fact, the first time I had felt like my old self had been a week into June, having brunch on the terrace with Selina while Mattie, Nathan and Ethan tackled Dick in the back lawn.

We had laughed at Dick's grass stained form emerging from the mass of kids and for the first time that year, we hadn't been pretending as if everything was all right.

Namely because everything _was _all right.

Or so it seemed.

The last pleasant thought I had before discovering the Joker had escaped from Arkham had been that we were going to have a good year. All was well with the Family, everyone had settled into their roles and we had finally welcomed a child into our lives. And yet hours after I had expressed my excitement for finding real happiness in our tormented lives, a dozen security guards were dead and the Joker and Harley Quinn were celebrating the new year in style...

The house line started to ring and before I could pick up, it stopped. A moment later, I heard Dick call out from the other side of the apartment, "Babs, phone!"

"I ought to tell Alfred," I muttered after his less than polite gesture. Reaching for the cordless on the end table, I greeted, "Hello?"

"Hi, it's Mattie."

"Hey, there… aren't you at a sleepover?"

"I was… But Piper's Dad drove me home early, I had to get things ready here…"

"Bummer that it cut your day away short, though…"

She paused before saying, "It's no biggie, I had a lot to work on here anyway… So, still on for dinner?"

"Of course… wouldn't miss it… can I do anything to help?"

"Actually, we're just kind of hanging outside all day… I think we might bump dinner up to five or six… for Dad… so he doesn't have to stay up late."

"Well, we're free whenever you are, I think we'll come up early anyway… Dick wanted to take Ethan in the pool for a bit."

"Okay… Um. All right, we'll see you later then."

She was thirteen going on thirty.

"All clean," Dick announced as he entered the room with Ethan in his right arm, "What did the wild child want?"

"Oh… just wanted to put together a plan… We'll go up around three, that way you can swim with him."

"A plan it is…" he set Ethan on the floor beside a pair of plush penguins, "So… How did things go last night?"

Despite the fact that he was only physically unable to participate in his usual nocturnal activities, Dick had made only mild efforts to keep up to date with what was going on. I wasn't too worried about it as his disinterest kept him from looming over my shoulder while I was hard at work. Generally, the topic only surfaced when he was bored or when he was feeling out of the loop.

Judging the tone of his voice, I decided it was both.

"Not too bad… I only had to refer about a dozen calls to them, had about two dozen pickups… Cass cleaned out most of the thugs in Chelsea… Tim cornered some Demonz in the Bowery."

"Bet that hurt," Dick smirked as he carefully sat down on the couch beside me.

I shrugged, "He didn't say anything… then again, he wouldn't."

Dick went quiet and together we watched as Ethan talked to his penguins, making them kiss and hug before shaking them in the air. As the penguins found the safety of dry land once more, Dick said, "You think he's going to be okay?"

"Bruce? Of course, he just needs time to acclimate…"

"No, I meant… Tim."

The mental well being of our beloved Timothy Jackson Drake had been a low ranking topic over the last few weeks, mostly because it honestly hadn't been a cause for concern. Following Jack and Dana's funeral, he had surprisingly balanced his life in and out of the mask. The generous move to give Will the townhouse, starting life back in his father's house, trying to get things at the Firm running on top of his now Joker-free nights as Batman should have been overwhelming but he was handling it in stride.

Then again, Tim's life had always been inundated with activity, good and bad.

"He's Tim… He can handle anything," I reminded him.

Dick nodded, but remained silent for once.

"He went to the Asylum again… to talk to Harley."

"He's been going to the Asylum?"

"At least once a week since…" I trailed off.

Letting his gaze leave our son, Dick looked to me before asking, "Why does he keep going?"

"I asked him after the first two times… He said he was trying to make sure we were safe… that Harley wouldn't expose who we were. But… she wouldn't talk to him, wouldn't even acknowledge him."

"She has to be a wreck, knowing that she's alone now. Especially since she was there… saw him loaded up… And she hasn't said anything, all this time?"

I watched as Ethan left the penguins in order to grab onto a blue rubber ball that was bigger than him, "If she had, he would have said something… he was there a bit longer this morning… maybe she finally cracked."

We were silent for a long time, long enough for Ethan to empty most of his toy bin and chaotically distribute them throughout the living room. The fact that the Joker had brought so much suffering to our lives, the worst of it had been that he had finally found out the truth, the faces behind the masks. He had attacked me on a personal level countless times before, shooting me, killing Sarah, kidnapping and torturing my father… but to see him come after the Family, one by one…

Yes, we had returned to normalcy, but nothing was ever going to be the same. Will would never be able to answer his office door without cringing. Bruce would never have the full use of his leg, and there was a distinct possibility that my husband's arm would suffer as well. The peace Selina had found with Bruce retiring was forever tarnished. Mattie and Nathan as well, their lives complicated given their father's actions and the enemies that have resulted.

"Babs?"

"Hmm?" I looked up to see him standing before me, keys in hand and sun glasses perched on the crown of his head. I had no recollection of him getting up from the couch, let alone getting ready to leave for the day.

"I'm going to head out… Meet back here at one?"

I nodded, before quickly pulling my glasses off, "Sure… Give Will my best."

Dick leaned in and kissed my cheek, "Easy enough. Since you are the best."

"Gypsy."

"Ginger," he shot back as he went to bid good bye to Ethan. Watching him lean over and smile at our son usually brought a smirk to my lips but I found myself just staring. "Bye bye, Egg-man… see you later when we go mooch off Papa and Gammy's eternal bliss…"

Ethan replied, "Papa dergun oooo…Okay."

"My thoughts exactly," Dick replied. He winked at me as he left the living room and I listened intently as his footfalls traveled down the corridor and out the front door.

Alone, I decided that my brother was due for a phone call. I dialed his cell after realizing I didn't know his new office number. I could have easily called the house to speak with Mo but in the off chance she and her daughter were sleeping in, I didn't want to interrupt them. I knew for a fact that Jim worked long hours six days a week, keeping Sundays for his family. Being the sole income provider, he didn't have a choice.

After they had left Gotham, I had promised to take care of the house in terms of arranging and funding repairs in order to make it fit for sale. Since Bruce had outright paid for the house after they had only invested in the down payment and first mortgage bill, selling the house would generate pure income for them, a nest egg to help fund the move back home in addition to setting college money aside for Sarah. Jim had never been comfortable receiving handouts, just like his father, and Bruce's generosity had been overwhelming. I had tried to explain that it was just his nature to help others and that buying a townhouse for him was like going shopping at the mall.

"I can't even fathom… having that much money," Jim had said to me once.

I had replied, "Neither can he."

Moving back to Chicago, they had taken to renting an apartment until they could afford a new house. Mo's mother had offered them to share her house but Jim had been too proud and politely declined. With their house still on the market and no one interested in living in a place that had walls lined with the Joker's bullets, it would be some time before they could have a house to call home. I had brought the matter up to Dick a few times but didn't feel right discussing it with Bruce, not while he was still trying to find a balance in his life.

Maybe after seeing how he was at dinner…

Jim answered on the third ring, "Barbara? What's up?"

"Hey… are you busy?"

"No, actually just taking a break… been here since six-thirty this morning trying to get these blueprints finished… redoing the interior the Cultural Center… been back and forth to the Loop last two weeks nonstop… Eaten just about every sandwich there is at Encore."

"Keeping busy."

"Too busy… Sarah grew an inch taller… didn't even know."

I offered comforting words, "Price of being a working dad."

He sighed, "Too much like my own dad… always working, never home… sorry, Barbara, I don't mean to complain, I'm sure things are just as bad there… How's Dick? And Bruce?"

"Good. Actually, Dick just left to help Tim and Cass move Will into Tim's old place…"

"No heavy lifting, I presume?"

"No, I think he's in charge of throw pillows and other one-handed items… And Bruce and Selina's anniversary is today, their daughter is throwing them a little surprise dinner party."

"Well... That sounds great… nice to hear they're getting back on track…" Although his words were kind, his voice lacked any sign of real appreciation. Breeching the reason behind it would have reflected countless discussions with Dad about him lying in order to fake the appearance of being happy.

Far too often I had found him sitting in the den with a glass of scotch after a long day at GCPD, his face anything but calm, telling me, "Go back to bed, sweetheart…"

Like father, like son…

"Yeah, we're trying to at least… anyway, Dick and I were thinking about coming out for a week. Spend some time in the city, and with you guys…"

Real emotion came through his voice, "Oh wow… Barbara… I mean, I'd love to you see you but… I've just been so busy…"

"You're finishing the blueprints today, right?" When he confirmed it, I continued, "And your next project is…?"

"Well, nothing really, I mean, waiting for this job to get approved and then start getting bids… but that'll take a while before everything is ready to go…"

"A while, like a week?"

There was a long pause, filled only by his breathing and Ethan's playing. Finally, Jim laughed into the phone before asking, "So when am I picking you up at the airport?"

^V^

After a futile attempt to feed Master Tim, I retrieved the quiche from the oven, smiling to see it had browned to perfection. Setting it to cool on the counter top, I took the elevator to the third floor to rouse Master Nathan so that he could walk his canine companion. En route, crossed paths with Taffy. Generally, the cat slept with Miss Mattie but given that she was away for the night, the feline had been left under the care of Ms. Selina. Apparently, the calico must have been exiled from the master bedroom for roughhousing with Kitten.

"Wait here, dear," I whispered to the lonely cat. Stepping into Master Nathan's bedroom, I wasn't surprised to find the dog sleeping not on his own bed but beside his charge underneath a down comforter. It had been the third consecutive morning I had found the dog in the bed and although I knew the beast was vaccinated, de-wormed and on preventative treatments for external parasites, it still made me uneasy.

However, I wasn't about to risk my well-being by removing the dog by grasping his leather collar…

After several attempts to lure Master Nathan from slumber, I accepted defeat and returned to the ground floor, Taffy at my side. After treating her to an early breakfast, including a tablespoon of heavy cream, I went about taking two slices of the quiche and plating them with parsley. Simple, but I had to do something. Along with the two plates, I carried two cups of steaming lemon tea to the nook, setting the small table. Taking a seat, I looked to see my furry friend was at my feet, looking up at me and licking her lips.

"I'm afraid this is not a place setting for you, little one."

She narrowed here bright green eyes briefly and then sauntered away.

Indulging in a quiet moment alone, I glanced through the window over looking the front drive, waiting for familiar headlights to crest the small hill. A morning ritual of late, it was certainly more enjoyable than arguing with Master Bruce about taking his medication. Although the day was to be fairly casual, I found myself thinking it would be the only quiet moment I would have to myself.

"You get up far too early, old man."

I glanced away from the window, finding Leslie making her way through the kitchen. Her delayed return to Gotham had been justified given the violent encounter she had endured in Africa, although she had seemed more upset by Master Bruce's condition than her nearly dying in a raid. Leslie had seen her returning to Gotham as a failure and no matter how earnest I had been in convincing her otherwise, she had remained unwilling to see it any other way. After an initially difficult return, the weeks that followed had been focused solely on getting Master Bruce home from the hospital and back to as good of health as possible. Shortly before he had been released, Dr. Kinsolving had departed and I had expected Leslie's focus on him to increase, not decrease.

Her first visit at the Clinic had been just before Memorial Day weekend, purely a social engagement, talking with the staff and former patients while attending a small party After the holiday weekend, she had made the drive into the city again, spending nearly ten hours at the clinic helping with a blood drive and immunization event. By the end of the week, it was as if she had never left, working endlessly to help those of the inner city that were in need.

At least I had been able to convince her to only work during the day.

Having leased her house for the year, she had been driving to and from the Manor, of which I had promptly put an end to. Despite her refusals, I had volunteered Master Dick to drive her to the Clinic in the morning and from at the close of each day. Most nights, she had made an effort to attend dinner but far too often, Master Dick's headlights came up the drive after the children were tucked into bed. She had said on one particularly late evening that she had never felt better but the look on her tired face had said otherwise.

With Master Bruce legitimately able to begin physical therapy and occupational therapy, I hoped that she would see that her healing hands were needed closer to home. He was still on an undeterminable length sabbatical from his work in the city, his children were soon to be out of school for the summer and his Family was more than willing to continue their endless support.

Rising to my feet, I gestured to the small place setting at the nook table, her tea and a slice of quiche diligently waiting. She smiled, nodded and then finally took a seat, "Only because if I refuse, you'll poison my next meal."

"I most certainly wouldn't… that sort of treachery is reserved solely for Master Bruce."

She laughed softly, taking a bite before asking, "How is he?"

"Master Bruce? I… I have yet to intrude upon them this morning. Ms. Selina said she would see to it he took his medications before eight."

"Well, he can have one day to himself before we start physical therapy," there was a pause as she sipped her tea, "Who am I kidding? I'll come home this afternoon and he'll be on a treadmill."

I smiled softly before asking, "This afternoon?"

"Dick said he was coming to get me at three, whether I was ready or not… Said he was working under direct order from the highest authorities."

Shaking my head, I focused intently on wiping away and invisible spot on the glossy table's surface, "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Of course you don't."

At ten of seven, Master Dick arrived to retrieve Leslie. I offered him the remainder of the quiche to take home to his family and he readily agreed. With a smile, he wafted the aroma towards his nose, "This will make Babs happy… especially since I left her a stinky diaper to change this morning…"

Alone again, I cleaned up after our small meal before mentally mapping out breakfast for the remainder of the household, minus Miss Mattie. With her due back around noon from her sleepover, I was left without my trusted sous chef, making me lean towards a simple, but tasteful breakfast of crepes and fresh fruit, leaving lunch and naturally dinner to be more fulfilling.

As I began retrieving eggs and milk, I heard the service entrance open and close almost in near silence. Setting the ingredients on the counter, I listened intently as the individual slipped off sneakers and crept down the hardwood floor in socks. Heading to the pantry for a fresh bag of flour, I glanced towards the corridor and cleared my throat.

Miss Mattie spun around and gasped, "Alfred…"

"My dear child, I do believe it is not quite noon…"

"I… I…" she started to explain, "I had Piper's dad drop me off, but I walked up the driveway, I didn't want his car waking Mom and Dad up."

"How very thoughtful of you," I proceeded to the pantry, not surprised in the least that she had tried sneak into the Manor. Upon retrieving my bounty, I returned to the kitchen, Miss Mattie at my heels. While I fetched the final ingredients and utensils, I went directly to work on the crepes.

Without being prompted, she proceeded to explain herself, "I couldn't sleep… all night long I just… I waited until her dad woke up to go golfing, had him drop me off on the way… I told him I didn't feel well…"

As I let the lightly oiled griddle warm on the stove, I turned to look her over. Dark bags under bloodshot eyes, her skin pale after spending most of the warm weather indoors and her shoulders slumped with fatigue. I was fairly certain she did not feel well at all. Remaining silent, I returned my focus to preparing breakfast, waiting to see if she would be more forthcoming on her own accord. As expected, she was not.

Rather than press her, I inquired if she was feeling well enough to slice fruit we had picked out at the farmer's market the day before. I turned the conversation away from the less desirable part of the sleepover to what she had enjoyed. She had been quick to say they had made personal pizzas and she had made a chicken marsala one. And that they had ice cream and popcorn and watched movies on their new TV until after midnight.

"It was fun, actually. Hanging out with everyone… pretending that everything was okay."

I paused, removing the final crepe from the griddle, "Miss Mattie… everything _is _okay."

She smiled up at me. And just as she had at the penthouse weeks earlier, she broke into tears.

Turning the burner off of the stove, I took the plate of crepes from her and set it on the counter before taking her into a soft embrace. Without prodding, she confessed as her tears soaked my sweater, "I just… I just kept thinking that something would happen… he'd have a heart attack or a seizure or… he would fall and… something would happen again and I wouldn't be there…"

I remained silent until the quivering in her back calmed and her staggered breaths grew long and even. Pushing her away, I finally spoke, "Mattie… I have spent the last forty years watching your father punish himself for something that was out of his control… I don't want to spend my remaining years on this Earth watching you do the same. Is that understood?"

She nodded, the serious look on her face on par with those I had seen on her father's.

"Now… these crepes aren't going to fill themselves, are they?"

With a tray filled with crepes, coffee, milk and warm maple syrup, we made our way upstairs, making a brief stop at Master Nathan's room to wake him. Leaving Ace, the sleepy young boy followed after us, already asking if he could go back to bed after giving their parents breakfast.

A soft rap on the door yielded Ms. Selina beckoning us in, smiling as she spotted her daughter. Before she could be asked, Miss Mattie explained that she had intended on being home early to surprise them with breakfast. As I sat the tray on the far bedside table, Ms. Selina proceeded to thank me and the children. Master Nathan, who had been a zombie moments earlier, promptly came to life, skipping across the room and leaping onto the bed. Where his mother had already been sitting upright, his father was still sleeping, or at least he had been. Master Nathan's abrupt and unexpected landing had caused the figure buried under the covers to jerk and wince audibly.

As the boy quickly moved to sit next to his mother, Miss Mattie raced over and reprimanded him, "You can't do that, Nathan, you'll hurt Dad!"

"Mattie," Ms. Selina sighed, patting her son's back when he began to look uneasy, "He's fine, it was an accident."

Growling while glaring at her young brother, Mattie continued, "No, he can't do that he'll-."

Finally Master Bruce spoke, "Mattie, he's fine." With a great deal of effort, he pushed himself up in order to sit against the abundant pillows. After steadying his breathing, he patted his lap, encouraging Master Nathan to sit with him.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Master Nathan said quietly as he crawled over the bedspread.

After kissing his son on the back of the head, Master Bruce said, "It's okay, tiger…" before reaching for the hearing aide case on his bedside table.

Master Nathan watched intently as his father inserted them, giggling before asking, "Can you hear me now?"

"Wiseass," Master Bruce smirked, instantly earning him a slap from his wife, punishment for malice.

Leaving the Family to dine together, I went about briefly tidying up Master Nathan's room under the watchful eye of Ace. Upon returning to the ground floor, the dog had decided to follow me and just as Taffy had. I rewarded his noble gesture in not eating me by letting him outside. The dog had saved Master Bruce's life in a way and would do anything for the Family, but it still made me uneasy when I was the only human in his sights. I had never been fond of dogs, let alone large, black beasts capable of vivisecting me.

As Ace went through his morning routine of searching the immediate grounds and following Master Dick's car tracks down the driveway, treated myself to a second cup of tea.

"Leslie already left?" Mattie's voice startled me.

I turned from the window, "Astute as ever, Miss Mattie… Yes, I'm afraid she has. She and Master Dick departed shortly before you arrived."

"She'll be home early, right?" When I nodded, Miss Mattie continued, "Good. Think they know?"

"I believe your mother has an inkling. Your father has his mind elsewhere."

Not a moment later, Ms. Selina appeared with a near empty breakfast tray, her son proudly carrying empty coffee cups beside her. Rather than argue with her about taking my duty of tending to the tray, I instructed Miss Mattie to aide her rambunctious younger sibling to retrieve his canine companion from outside.

Ms. Selina set the tray down on the counter, her plate empty where her husband's remained half full. She caught me looking over the barely eaten breakfast, "Maybe Ace will want a treat."

"Is he not feeling well?"

"Just tired. At least now he can get up and move around, even if it's in a wheelchair, instead of sleeping all day and night… I swear, Alfred, it's like he's catching up from the last twenty years."

After a brief moment of watching the children play with Ace through the window over the sink, I commented, "Is he making his way down?"

She shook her head, her eyes never leaving her children, "No… I figured I'd get those two occupied with something and then go back up and coax him out of hibernation."

"Perhaps… I could be of service."

"Oh… no, Alfred… I'll go-."

"It would be my pleasure."

A devious smile momentarily crossed Ms. Selina's face, "I did give him more than enough time to get up on his own…"

Entering the master bedroom for the second time that morning, I found that each of the drapes had been pulled back on the floor to ceiling windows. From the stairs, I had heard the loud pop music from the stereo and entering the room had made the thumping bass jolt my heart. And of course, Master Bruce slept as if the room was dark and silent.

Although after seeing the hearing aides back in the case and the pillows over his face, it was.

For my own sake, I silenced the stereo via a remote I found on Ms. Selina's bedside table. From there, I navigated to the table belonging to Master Bruce, of which was littered with an array of medicinal paraphernalia. Humming to myself, I found a sterile eighteen gauge needle in its plastic packaging. Thick enough to push penicillin through surely it would be capable of waking the dead, if correctly placed. I decided to be kind and not stab his only exposed body part, his splinted hand.

Given that he was laying face down, I lifted the edge of the covers and promptly drove the needle into his left buttock.

Rather than jump or cry out or show any sign of surprise, Master Bruce slowly reached a hand from under the covers and plucked the needle out with a quiet, "Ow."

I waited until he had rolled over, unearthed his head from its barricade and glared at me before responding, "Oh, forgive me, sir, did I wake you?"

"Of course not," he replied while setting the needle on the bedside table. After taking a deep breath, he rolled over to lay completely on his back before slowly pushing himself to sit upright. The damage to his thoracic and abdominal cavity had left his muscles tight, limiting his mobility. Months of physical therapy and daily regimens of yoga and strength training would stretch the soft tissue just shy of their original condition.

At least that would mend in time…

"Well, seeing as you are already awake, perhaps one could entice you out of bed… to join your family downstairs," I offered, only to find his eyes had drifted to the empty side of the bed.

He ran a hand through his short, gray hair, stopping short just before his fingers reached the new scar on the back of his skull, barely sheathed in new hair. Ms. Selina helped him bathe at night, leaving the morning ritual to only include shaving and washing up. Although he was capable of making the walk to and from the bathroom on his own, standing for any length of time had been previously prohibited. No doubt I would soon find him showering in the morning as opposed to letting his wife dote upon him… or perhaps both.

As I reached for his crutches, Master Bruce cleared his throat as he went about putting his hearing aides back in. Most mornings, I expected him to neglect them as a means of ignoring me but recently he had been willing to offer more than a just few choice words and grunts. Rather than inquire as to why he hadn't eaten his breakfast, I simply placed his crutches on either side of his legs and offered, "Leslie will be back earlier today… to begin some of the occupational and coordination-."

"Fine," he interrupted curtly.

"And I believe Master Dick will be bringing young Master Ethan for a swimming lesson."

"Doesn't he have to work?"

I paused as he forced back a grimace while climbed to his feet. Once I was certain no intervention was necessary, I replied, "It is Saturday, sir. The fifteenth."

He shook his head slightly, "Right." I stepped back as Master Bruce moved forward a tentative step before turning towards the bathroom.

Following two feet behind him in case he faltered, I continued, "Ms. Selina and the children are downstairs… I believe she and Miss Mattie desired to tend the gardens this morning, before it becomes too warm."

"And Nathan?"

"Well, sir, I believe he wanted you to watch him ride his bicycle."

He didn't respond until he had reached the bathroom, setting the crutches against the counter before turning the faucet on. While splashing water onto his face, Master Bruce said, "I'll be down in twenty minutes."

A polite way of saying my presence wasn't required or desired, something I had heard far too often.

Before I turned to leave, I heard him ask, "Put the wheelchair by the bed."

A smile crossed my lips, thinking that was the first he had asked for it.

"Consider it done, sir."

^V^

"Mom?" I asked softly, the chilled parfait glasses numbing my fingers.

She and Dad were laying on a quilt in the back lawn, dozing after our long morning of tending to the garden beds around the manor and of course our grand picnic. Alfred had even found a massive picnic basket that had belonged to my late grandmother, filling it with steak tips on ciabatta bread, olives stuffed with a variety of cheeses, an Asian slaw of cabbage, bean sprouts and crunchy chow mein noodles. We had left dessert, fruit and cheesecake parfaits, in the kitchen to stay chilled to perfection.

As Nathan and I had gone inside for our desserts, Mom and Dad had said they would have theirs later as they were stuffed after lunch. It had been thirty minutes since I had taken the last bite of my parfait, spending the time cleaning up the kitchen, washing up and changing into clean clothes. Alfred had already stepped out for the afternoon to get a few things for the surprise dinner, leaving me behind as to not arouse suspicion.

Nathan and Ace had made their way into the den to watch TV, leaving me literally alone. Taffy and Kitten were no doubt upstairs romping up and down the halls or knocking things off of a dresser. Instead of making my way up to check, I opted to remain on the ground floor.

Piper had called just before lunch, asking if I was okay seeing how I had feigned a stomach ache, due to overeating the amazing pizzas we had made. She had said if I felt better later in the day that she and Kat and Angie were going to the movies. I had thanked her, but reminded her that I was having the surprise dinner for my Family.

"Oh cool. Well let me know what you're doing tomorrow, I'm getting my haircut, you should totally come."

"Yeah, I'll ask my mom."

After hanging up a minute later, I texted Terry and then hesitated, remembering he had lost his cell phone privileges after getting caught trying to sneak over to see me. It had been nearly a week earlier and probably the fifteenth time he had done so. His sister had even driven him over a few times so he wouldn't have to ride his bike. Unfortunately, his dad had taken the day off to spend with his children and caught Terry red handed.

"No cell, no computer, no Xbox, no Wii… All I get to do is trace family crests from one of his text books. Hopefully I can redeem myself by summer vacation," Terry had explained in school the following day. He had also added, "It was worth it, though."

I had rolled my eyes and when he had batted his at me, I hit him with my math homework.

He had been allotted an hour on the house phone every night after homework, dinner and his chores were done. There had been nights we were certain his father had been listening in, trying to see if we were trying hatch any more schemes. Thankfully, Mr. Miller hadn't told my parents about it, stating that they had enough to worry about already.

Although the previous secret visits to the manor had been successful, they had not be secret. I knew I was unable to disarm the security countermeasures and monitoring equipment, only avoid them as best as possible. The second my window opened, I had known the alarm sounded on the system and alerted my father via the laptop he kept in his bedroom and in the study. The fact that he had ignored it for so long attested to how distracted he had been over the last few weeks, and even before he lost to the-.

"Mom?" I asked again, slightly louder.

Her head was settled on my father's chest and her left hand was draped over his abdomen. Laying flat on his back, Dad's left arm was around her shoulders, the wedding ring on his finger catching the sunlight. I thought to myself that it was about time she gave it back to him.

After saying her name once more, Mom's eyes fluttered open and she smiled, "What time is it?"

"One."

She carefully untangled herself from Dad's arm and sat up on the blanket, "Already?"

I was quick to offer, "Do you want your parfaits?"

Mom shook her head before looking down at Dad, "No, I'm still stuffed… and I think he has to be conscious to eat."

I paused before asking, "Is he okay? He's been sleeping a lot today."

Mom leaned over and kissed his cheek and said his name into his ear, although it yielded no response. As a second thought, Mom grabbed his right ear and twisted it, causing his eyes to open widely. She released her hold and then grinned up at me.

He cleared his throat before asking, "Did you say something, dear?"

"Mattie wanted to know if you were ready for dessert."

He looked up at me as if he hadn't seen me all day, frowning as he pushed himself up to sit beside Mom. After taking a deep breath, he asked, "I thought you were at Piper's?"

Of all the changes that had resulted from his injuries, the short term memory loss was the most difficult to bear. Seeing him walk with crutches or sit in a wheel chair or even him having to wear hearing aides were fairly tolerable. Having him completely forget things that had just happened was unnerving. Leslie said it would improve with time but in the interim, we just had to be patient and understanding.

I forced a smile to my lips, "I came home early, Dad. To make lunch… and to help Mom and Alfred in the garden."

"Right," he nodded, not that he actually remembered. After forcing a half-smirk to his own lips, he added, "I would love a parfait."

Mom rose to her feet, "You can have mine, Mattie… I need to shower and change anyway."

Translation: Spend some time with your father when it doesn't involve his medical care.

She kissed the top of my head as she walked by, disappearing up the stone steps onto the terrace and into the house. I sat across from my father as opposed to next to him, offering him the parfait dish. He thanked me and studied the glass before taking a taste, "Very good."

"Thanks… they're the berries Nathan and I picked out yesterday."

He didn't say anything until after he had finished eating, reclining back onto the blanket with a sigh. After setting my glass down beside his, I decided to lay next to him, although on my stomach so I could look at his face. Dad smiled at me again and then stared out over the lawn.

"That's where the wedding was, right? Your wedding?"

Dad nodded as he gestured with his right hand, "Yep. Right over there… facing the tree line… It was supposed to storm that day, but thankfully it waited until the reception."

"Mom would have been mad if she had been rained on."

"Yes, she would have."

After a beat, I found the courage to ask, "Do you remember all of it… I mean…"

"It's okay," he sighed before speaking, "I remember getting ready in the morning, everything going wrong. Paper cut from the note your mother gave me… I cut myself shaving, ripped a toe nail on the bath mat…"

I laughed, thinking how similar that had been to Mom's pre-wedding stories.

Dad continued, "I remember sneaking away, right before the ceremony. Coming downstairs to have breakfast with you and your mother. Everyone had been keeping us apart all morning, finally I had it. Snuck out when no one was looking…"

"Mom said you snuck away during the reception, too."

A smiled flashed over his lips briefly, "Yes… we timed it with the storm that cut our power briefly. Hadn't been out of the house in weeks… combined with the stress of the wedding… well, the wedding guests, at any rate."

I began to bob my feet, letting my bare toes reach beyond the blanket to touch the grass. Although initially I had loved hearing about his previous life as Batman, in the last six weeks I had found myself wanting to know about the man behind the mask. Thanks to Alfred leaving his journal behind, I had managed to learn more about him than I ever thought possible. Granted, he and Mom had told me about their lives together and apart before I had been born, but the journal was an entirely different story.

"Ready for the meet next weekend?" Dad asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah… I mean, my balance beam routine is fine… And parallel bars… But my vault needs work… Dick said he would help me this afternoon, when he comes up."

"Ah, nice of him."

Although he had hidden the disappointment in voice, he had been unable to mask it on his face. I hadn't even thought to ask him, not certain if he was ready to set foot in the Cave, even if it was to watch his little girl fly. I had convinced myself that I didn't want to bother him or that he needed to rest or that if I spent time with him, I wanted him to be comfortable. By doing so, I was able to lie to myself that I was afraid he didn't want to be in the Cave after what had happened.

Seeing the pain in his eyes whenever he was asked about the night he fought the Joker had made me never want to remind him of anything related to being Batman ever again. Why would I remind him so bluntly by making him watch me trapeze about his former training bay, doing things he would never be able to do again? What kind of a daughter would do that to her father… especially after she had already nearly gotten him-.

"Well, I'll wait until the competition… wouldn't want to spoil the surprise," Dad's voice interrupted my morbid line of thought.

"You can come down and-."

He shook his head, "That's okay… besides, Nate wanted me to see his new bike trick."

I smiled thinking how Tim had taught him earlier that week how to do a few tricks. Nathan had always asked to learn them, increasingly so since we had seen a group of boys at a skateboard park showing off their skills. Safety first, my baby brother had been sporting elbow and knee pads, wrist guards and his helmet while Tim schooled him in the art of being cool. I had taken a short video of him on Monday and planned to take another one that afternoon to document his progress.

"Tricks, Dad," I corrected him. "He can slide, do a little wheelie, an endo and he's almost got the bunny hop, but he's just a little too little still."

"An endo?" he asked.

I smirked, "You'll see."

Dad shook his head, his gaze finally settling on the blue abyss above us, "Another hazardous physical sport… just what he needs."

"He's practically padded up as much as he is for football," I offered, "And at least Cass hasn't gotten her hands on him yet."

He glared at me, but I laughed. "That's not funny."

Through giggles, I added, "I know… she's a great babysitter but she can only handle one kid at a time…"

"Mattie…" he warned, fighting a smirk.

"Yes, Daddy?"

His eyes returned upward, "You haven't called me that in a long time."

I had called him that as he lay dying in Crime Alley.

I had screamed it as I watched him die in the ambulance

I had cried it while he was comatose, his condition improving and worsening with each passing day.

It was the first thing I said to him when he woke up.

"No, I haven't," I replied.

"Used to call me that all of the time… now… you say it when you want something."

"That's not true," I started to defend myself.

He acted as if he hadn't heard me, "And I think I know what you want."

"Another pony?" I joked.

"No," he replied, without any sign of amusement. I sat up at that, watching him do the same albeit more slowly and with greater effort. Watching their wedding video earlier in the week, I had been amazed at much he had aged in the last twelve years. That day, he had jet black hair with just the beginning of gray making its way to his temples. He had been at his peak body weight, pushing two-fifteen and all of it lean mean, crime-fighting muscle.

Looking at him as he sat before me, his hair was universally gray, slightly thinned at the crown from radiation treatments. He had suffered significant weight loss from his surgeries and hospitalization, making his clothes hang from his broad frame. New scars mottled his body, just as new wrinkles marked his face. He suddenly looked like an old man and it made my chest grow tight.

"I know Tim's been having you do scuttle work in the Cave… as a way of punishing you…"

"Dad, I-."

"And I know it has been a punishment, not being able to do what you want to…" he looked away from me before continuing, "And I know what I promised you."

_I lost one child to him, Mattie, I will not lose another…_

Dad continued, "… I don't want you to think that I forgot."

_After they catch him… we'll get you back in training… maybe then you can… but not until…_

"Dad… It's not important," I lied, "Not right now."

"No, it is… I've had a long time to think about this… to think about what's changed in my life… in everyone's lives… The one thing that hasn't… is that I want nothing more than for you to be happy. At first I thought that meant you having a normal childhood, not having to face what we had to…"

"… but I proved you wrong," I said softly.

He smirked, "Something not many people are capable of, kitten."

Barking sounded from a distance, followed by a horn honk and Nathan's laughter.

The Grayson family had arrived, early,

Dad caught my attention being drawn away and he sighed, "Go… we can talk later."

"No, I can stay, Dad…"

He smiled, "Go on… make sure your brother hasn't run over your other brother."

After I paused briefly, I nodded, kissing him on the cheek before rising to my feet. When I asked if he wanted help getting back into his wheelchair, he shook his head, saying he wanted to stay out for a while longer.

I turned to leave, then stopped to say, "Dad?"

Before he reclined back down, he turned to look at me, "Yes, kitten?"

"You got what you wanted, you know."

"How so?" he asked, confusion marking his brow.

I answered, "I am happy."

^V^

"So this is where you're hiding…"

Sitting out on the rear terrace, I opened my eyes to see Dick staring down at me, a smile spread broadly over his face.

Dinner and its attendees had been a surprise, one I should have seen coming had I paid attention.

I had thought nothing of Dick coming up so Ethan could go for a swim in the pool, bringing Barbara along to take pictures. He had been Leslie's chauffeur for weeks now, so naturally she had taken her ride home from the clinic hours earlier than normal. Mattie had cut her slumber party short, claiming to want to surprise us with breakfast and a day of fun outdoors. Then Tim and Cass had showed around five after a long day at the townhouse, innocently dropping off anniversary gifts...

When Selina had fetched me from the back lawn to watch Nathan demonstrate his bike tricks, I had forgotten that Dick had arrived not much earlier. Seeing his car out front had been the first trigger that something was going on until Selina had reminded me that he was just bringing Leslie home early and so his son could swim. Shaking my head, I had let the paranoia pass and readied myself for Stuntman Nate's performance, taking a seat on the steps with Selina.

Riding his glossy black Mantis bicycle, I had watched as Nathan demonstrated the maneuvers Tim had taught him earlier in the week. Although scaled down given his size, age and level of expertise, he had done a wonderful job and earned the applause we had given him. The grand finale had been a bunny hop that barely took his sixteen inch tires off of the ground. Nevertheless, he had grinned up at me, "Did you see, did you see?"

"I saw," I had smiled.

He had then raced over, sliding to a stop before his sister and demanding to watch an instant replay on her camera. After making him say please, she had obliged him, although she had refused to let him hold her treasured electronic device.

She had leaned into me and kissed my cheek, "Look at them."

I had been, but I had nodded still.

"So different… so similar," she had commented, "Like two other people I know."

I had shrugged, "Got me."

"I most certainly do."

Nathan had decided that he needed to do an encore presentation and the second time around had indeed been better, notably the bunny hop that took him two and a half inches into the air. Regrettably, his endo had not gone according to plan, the front wheel stop happening too abruptly thus causing the back tire to come up too high. He had fallen off and landed on the pavement and Selina had rushed to his side. Surprisingly, he had sat up quickly on his own, looking over his bike for scratches while Selina did the same to him. Both unscathed, Nathan had gotten back on, attempted and accomplished the feat again.

As he took off to ride down and back up the driveway with Ace trotting beside him, Selina had taken her seat beside me again, letting out a deep breath, "He's crazy."

"He's yours," I had pointed out.

"It is Saturday, isn't it?" she had shaken her head, mocking our long neglected rotating parental responsibility schedule for our rambunctious son.

Mattie had excused herself to download the movie clips onto her computer, leaving us alone to watch Nathan race his dog down the drive. He had stopped at the front gates, his tiny form waving a hand before he began the trek back. I had taken the moment to say, "I know… I haven't had a chance to get you anything…"

Selina had smacked me in the chest, "Stop it. Right now."

I had taken her hand in mine, "No, I'm serious… And I know I've been difficult. And I'm sorry. I thought I would be able to just get through this, like it was any other time but I can't… and… I'm sorry."

She had hesitated while looking at me, "Are you saying an apology is my anniversary gift?"

I had reached into the pocket of my loose jeans while saying, "No… but this is."

Before taking the small velvet box from me, she had grinned, "It's not another necklace I tried to steal… is it?" A sore subject in the Wayne household since the previous Christmas, and yet she never hesitated in bringing it up, at least not without a smile on her face. Upon opening the jewelry box, her devious grin had been instantly replaced with a look of wonder and then one of sorrow, "Bruce…"

"Here… let's put it on and see," I had offered.

I had been unable to leave the Manor to find a gift for Selina, but that certainly hadn't stopped me from sending Alfred to Saks Fifth Avenue. He had willingly picked up the Akoya pearl necklace set with diamond roundels on an eighteen karat white gold strand. Alfred had said it was a stunning piece, although seeing it in person around my wife's neck had made it even more so.

She had put a hand to her neckline, gently touching the pearls before shaking her head, "Bruce… you shouldn't have."

"The anniversary website said twelfth year was pearls. Pearls it is."

"Bruce, I-."

I had cut her off, "Do you like them?"

Shaking her head, Selina had stared at me, her green eyes brighter than I had seen them in weeks. Finally, she had leaned over to kiss me on the lips softly before speaking, her voice heavy with emotion, "I love them."

Nathan had returned shortly after, verbally expressing his level of being "grossed out" by our kissing. After being directed to put his bike and gear up, Nathan had bemoaned over the fact that he had to wash up and change. He had trudged towards the garage, mumbling to Ace about how he was never going to kiss a girl.

Selina had helped me to my feet and to the wrought iron railing before going up the steps and into the atrium. I had asked if I had to wash up and change as well and she had said yes. When we had made it through the front door, Selina had left me against the wall in order to unfold the wheelchair that had been waiting for me. As she helped me sit, I had gently settled my hands on her hips and asked her if she could help me, she had laughed, "I'll be up in a minute."

I had made it to the elevator in good time, but instead of getting in, I had taken a left and headed towards the pool room. Pausing at the open doorway, I had found Dick and Barbara sitting on the steps of the shallow end, gently pushing a life preserver vest wearing Ethan through the water. Their focus intently on their son as he splashed the water with his hands, I had watched unnoticed.

Ethan had inadvertently splashed himself in the face and cried out suddenly. Dick, as always, had been quick to the rescue, leaning forward and kissing Ethan, "Hey Mr. Grumpy Gills… when life gets you down, you know what you gotta do?"

The cries continued, although he had been slightly less worried about his dilemma given the smile on his father's face.

Dick proceeded to sing, "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming…" As Dick slipped off of the step and dipped underwater briefly, he emerged to spit a stream straight up into the air as if he were a human fountain. Ethan had finally stopped crying as a tentative giggle passed through his lips.

At that, Dick had continued, louder and with more gusto, "What do we do? We swim, swim… Ho ho ho ho ho ho, I love to swimmmmmm! And when you-."

Ethan had erupted into laughter at that point while Barbara had growled that she now had the song stuck in her head.

Leaving them, I had returned to the elevator, taking it to the third floor in silence. I could have easily left my crutches downstairs and used them to make it back to the master bedroom, but I had decided that it hadn't been worth the bloodshed that would have resulted. Or the exhaustion.

The more I exerted myself, the more apt I was to suffer petit mal seizures, even on the anti-convulsing medication. Although absent seizures were brief and generally harmless, they still were periods of time when I was not in control of my body and even worse, periods of time where there was no memory. It had been bad enough that I had to battle an ineffective short term memory recall, adding in fifteen to twenty seconds where I just stared off into the abyss while my hands fumbled…

Time, Leslie and Shondra had said, I needed time to adjust. To acclimate.

I hated to tell them, but I didn't want to.

"Bruce?" I had heard Selina call out from the corridor.

Having already made it to the bedroom, I had pulled myself up onto the edge of the bed in order to undress outside of the restricted confines of the wheelchair. I had managed to push off my shoes, socks and jeans and had made a start on my shirt. The tight, weakened muscles of my torso had put a growl in my voice as I forcibly pulled it up over my head, "In here."

"I was coming to help you," she had said while stepping into the room.

"Plenty left to take off," I had said.

Save for the cast on my leg, splint on my hand and elastic brace that sheathed my chest from the middle of my pectorals down, all that I had on were boxer briefs. She had pointed that out and sighed, "Thought you were tired?"

"Why do think I've been resting up all week?"

Selina had approached the dresser in order to remove the pearl necklace. When they had been safely placed in a jewelry box, she had turned to look at me, "Dream on, Bruce. My luck you'll have a hernia… or you'll crack your sternum again."

She had been right.

She had always been right.

But it had never stopped me before.

"I get it… Old… Broken… Time to put out to pasture…" I had sighed.

"Don't start," she had to fight back a smirk as she approached me, tentatively sitting next to me on the end of the bed. "If you are a good boy… and eat all of your dinner," I had leaned in and kissed her neckline, "… and take all of your meds," my lips found her earlobe while my left hand traced up from her knee to her hip, she added, "… and never stop doing that…"

"This?" I had asked before kissing her just behind her ear. I had pulled away briefly, "To be fair, you haven't given me a gift yet…"

"I gave you the wedding ring last night."

"It was already mine," I had whispered into her ear before kissing my way back down her neck to her collarbone, "Has my initials on it."

"You gave it to me," she barely managed in a low whisper. I had started to recline on bed, using little effort to pull her on top of me. She had kissed my lips while balancing herself on her knees, cupping my face in her hands while mine settled on her hips. After a minute, she pulled away, "Possession is… nine-tenths of the law…"

"Is that so?" I had asked pulling her closer in order to slant my lips across hers. After another moment passed, I had asked, "And what exactly do you know about following the law?"

Nearly an hour later, we had returned downstairs, showered and dressed for dinner. At that point, it had been evident that Dick, Barbara and Ethan planned on staying as they had been gathered in the den with Nathan and Leslie. Shortly after we had joined them, Tim and Cassandra had made an appearance, claiming to just be dropping in to give us our gifts. I hadn't known at the time, but Mattie's plan had worked to perfection and I had been honestly surprised to see the Family together for the first time in far too long.

At least under desirable circumstances.

After Mattie had announced that dinner was ready and went about ushering everyone to the dining room, I had nodded at Tim and he had let Cassandra walk off with the group, staying behind with me.

Waiting until the others had turned at the end of the corridor, Tim's face had turned all business before asking, "What's up?"

We had undergone a number of talks over the last few weeks, namely about the events that had surrounded his retirement and subsequent reprisal of the cowl. At first, I had been wary of the emotional and psychological changes that had occurred in him following the tragic deaths of his father and step-mother. But just as he had as my young protégé, Tim had managed to muster through, sacrificing his own well being for the greater good.

Another reason why _he _was Batman.

"I spoke with Mattie."

"And?" he had asked in anticipation. We had discussed earlier that week whether or not she was ready to resume her training with Cassandra. From Tim's point of view, she was ready to further her training in order to prepare her for starting her career later on down the road. From my side, I had been worried that she would be only encouraged further to act out on her own accord the more she was exposed to and the more prepared she felt.

Tim had promised never to let her out of his sight.

But Mattie, much like her mother, was independent, self-assured, and worst of all, fearless.

I had finally replied, "When summer vacation starts. After gymnastics is over… Then."

Tim had smirked briefly before nodding, forcing himself to look solemn, "Of course. And no combat training.. Just enough to keep her reflexes going… She needs the practical applications, then the physical."

The image of my daughter wearing her home made guise, standing beside me in front of Jason Todd's costume flashed before my eyes. I had only been able to nod in agreement before suggesting we join everyone else.

En route, he had said that Will loved the townhouse and was eternally grateful for everything the had done for him. He had previously confessed to me that he had brought Will into our world beyond what the Joker had done to him. Will was part of the Family, whether he wanted to be or not. I had been uneasy about it, but Tim had insisted that there was really no way of avoiding it. Will already had suspicions because of their absence during the hunt for the Joker, and that he, just like Gordon, had once been a damn good detective.

That had brought an image of Jim from my scrambled memory banks, standing on the dark rooftop, sneaking up on him at crime scenes, sharing evidence, sharing Christmas mornings, sharing a radiation recovery room….

The dinner Alfred and Mattie had prepared had been divine. Mattie had introduced each course like a professional, garnering jokes that she was going to skip med school and go straight for a culinary institute. Green with roasted butternut squash and spiced almonds had paved the way for beet Ravioli with Swiss chard and prosciutto, of which Nathan and Ethan had both spat out loudly. From there, we had been treated to braised Halibut with garlic potatoes and crispy vegetables and shallots along. When dessert had arrived, there hadn't been room in anyone stomachs but it had been difficult to turn away a spiced apple cobbler with whipped cream slightly flavored with mint.

After dinner, Dick had joked, "So, if Mattie cooking dinner was her gift… is your gift going to be doing the dishes, Nate?"

Nathan had looked around the table before promptly jumping from his seat, grabbing his dog by the collar. As they had ran out the room together, my son had called back, "I have to walk Ace!"

It felt good to smile without having to pretend.

Leslie, Barbara and Cass stepped up to take care of the dishes while Tim took Mattie aside to talk. Getting back into the wheelchair, I had quietly made my way to the rear terrace, sitting alone as the sun began to make its way behind the trees.

Not ten minutes later, Dick had found me.

I watched as he sat in the chair beside me, patting his full stomach with his right hand. It was regrettably a familiar sight, his left arm always taped to his body and disclosed under his shirt. He had joked once about how people he met in stores often though he had no arm at all, opening doors for him and helping him carry bags. "It's nice to be pitied… although when it's time to change a diaper, everyone runs the other way."

Dick yawned loudly as the terrace doors opened to a patter of footfalls. Mattie, Ethan in tow, and Nathan, Ace in tow, clambered down the steps and into the yard. Finding a tennis ball, they quickly began a game of catch, alternating throwing it to each other and for the dog. After a long period of silently observing the children, Dick laughed quietly.

"What?" I asked.

"I was just thinking… Remembering, actually… Sitting out here, teaching you to read… teaching you to catch a ball… It was so long ago."

I nodded slightly, "Very long ago."

"Do you ever think about it? About then?"

Without looking away from Mattie as she gently handed the ball to Ethan, I replied, "Not really."

"Me either… I don't know why… I mean, it was tough back then but looking at it now…"

I finally looked over at him, put off slightly at the sight of him gently touching his injured left shoulder. When my gaze fell to my own injured limb, I remarked, "Time changes everything."

"I guess so," he sighed again before continuing, "I mean… then, I was getting ready to accept that I was going to have to be Batman forever… I never thought in a million years Babs would ever marry me… Hell, I never even thought you would have gotten married, baby or no baby."

"That's not why I married Selina," I glanced over at him again.

He caught my gaze in his bright blue eyes, "I know, I didn't mean it like that… It's just, all of these things I grew up with and never, ever thought they would happen and…" he gestured as out children played, "Look at them…"

I did. And I understood what he was bumbling about.

Another pause fell between us, one he broke by saying, "Do you regret it, going back to it?"

I looked down at my leg again as it throbbed in its cast, shaking my head, "No."

Dick quickly said, "No, I mean… after Pasqualle. After having Mattie…"

At the very mention of her name, I looked to her, holding down Nate so that Ace could lick his ears. "I didn't have a choice," I started, "I had to."

"No… No you had a choice, Bruce. You always have a choice."

I smirked briefly at his recitation of words I had barked at him for years. I concluded the statement, "It's just a matter of making the right one. And I did. I vowed to do what I could to save this city for however long I was physically capable."

Dick drew a breath slowly before asking, "But… how did you go back, after seeing her… holding her…"

"Dick?" I asked as I looked to him.

He shook his head, "I'm sorry… too much wine… makes me say stupid things."

"Dick?" I pressed again.

He relented, "These last two months, being home with him and Barbara… I've… I've never had that, never had that kind of a life. I mean, I'm up just before Ethan is so the first thing he sees is me… I get to spend time with him… with Babs… I get to tuck him in and I get to be there if he wakes up in the middle of the night… When my arm gets better… I'm going to lose that…. That feeling. I'm not sure if I can, Bruce."

Having already survived that dilemma, I had to tell him the truth.

Being his father, I had to ease the pain.

"You won't lose it, Dick. Not if you don't want to."

He laughed sadly, "I know… Before I did have it all under control, but this year… it's changed everything… seeing the Joker with Sarah in his arms… finding Will… I still have nightmares about it."

"Good."

"That's a good thing?"

I nodded, "In a way. It reminds you. Haunts you. Drives you."

"To do what?"

The sound of uproarious laughter sounded as Nathan succumbed to a vicious tickling from his sister. Although a smirk had founds its way to my lips again, I had spoken with a cool, even tone, "To do the right thing. Make the right choice."

"Which is?"

"To never forget why you do what you do… Why you have to do it and why no one else will. Why you can't give up… not while you still can make a difference."

Ten minutes passed as we watched the kids tire one another out, their sugar induced energy quickly ebbing. As they climbed back up the steps, Dick helped Ethan up onto his lap, kissing caramel curls of hair. I told Mattie and Nathan to wash up and get ready to say good night to everyone, receiving a plethora of whines and protests from both of them.

When they had finally departed, Dick asked, "Do you ever think about how different everything could have been that night…"

"I prefer not to," I replied curtly.

"No, I don't mean with the Joker… I meant with everything… Where we would be today if you hadn't been shot by Pasqualle."

If Selina hadn't given me a second chance.

If Tim had never lived next door.

If I had never taken Jason in.

If I had never gone to the circus.

If we had stayed home instead of going to the movies…

"I do…" I finally admitted.

"Really?" he asked, shifting Ethan with one hand.

Nodding, I replied, "Now and then."

^V^


	21. Now And Then: Epilogue

Title: Now And Then: Epilogue

Author: DC Luder

Summary: Tim is very grateful to celebrate his birthday with Family and friends.

Rating: T

Infringement: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Thank you again for reading… in time we will see what is in store for the Family… until then I have tons of one-shots I need to wrap up, old stories to mend, gin to drink… etc.

^V^

At a little after eight in the morning, I slipped out of bed, ran downstairs, retrieved a cupcake and then managed to return to the master bedroom without waking either of the sleeping figures in the room. I carefully knelt above Tim's lower torso, smiling down at him as he slept peacefully. Patrols the night before had been fairly quiet and we had made it back to Bristol by three in the morning. Given what day it was, I should have let him sleep as long as he had wanted but we had work to do.

"Tim?"

He twitched his nose but showed no sign of waking. I caressed his smooth cheek with my fingertips, the scar from the Joker barely noticeable after one skin graph. I had pleaded for him to have it taken care of for weeks instead of simply spending the rest of his life concealing it, and he refused me every time. However, the first time Bruce told him to get it looked at by a plastic surgeon, he had made an appointment the next day. When I had asked him why, Tim had admitted, "I can say no to you… not Bruce."

"Why's that?"

"You'll threaten me and possibly hurt me over it… he could get me banished from Santo's pizzeria in Bristol… and that… I can't have that happen."

I had only wished that I had thought of the same scare tactic.

"Tim?" I asked again, loud enough to wake Robbie from his dog bed.

After the third time I called his name, his lids slowly fluttered, revealing tired blue eyes. As he opened his mouth to speak, I promptly smashed the cupcake into his lips. Anyone else would have been overcome with shock, but he simply licked the frosting on his chin as the tattered cupcake sprinkled all over his neck.

"Mmm, tastes like birthday," he finally said, bright blue frosting already staining his tongue, teeth and lips.

I smiled before leaning in to kiss him, "Mmm, tastes like Funfetti to me."

He laughed at that before lifting his head in order to kiss me back, being sure to spread as much of the cupcake on my face as I had on his. Our mutual laughter had roused Robbie from his bed and he promptly jumped onto ours in order to join in on the fun. As he gobbled up crumbles of cupcake, Tim finally wiped off what was left on his face, commenting, "Apparently the first order of business is to change the sheets."

"Not yet," I smirked as I wiped my face clean with a pillowcase before shoving the dog off of the bed.

"Why is that?" he smirked, his hands finding my hips briefly before grabbing hold of the bottom of my gray tee shirt, "You have more cupcakes to rub into my face?"

"Is that what you call them?" I fought back a grin.

He laughed out loud as he pulled the shirt up and over my head, growing silent when he put his lips to my sternum. Tim murmured into my skin that cupcakes were his favorite but I told him to shut up. As expected, he didn't and instead started to hum the birthday song as he lapped his way up my chest to my neck and eventually finding my lips. Cupping his face in my hands, I let him push me down onto my back, situating himself over me but baring his weight on his hands and knees.

With him considerably occupied with disrobing me, I let one of my hands trace down his side and settle on his underwear clad hip. Timing it just right, I withdrew my hand to gain enough momentum for a monstrous smack on his rear end, causing him to jerk and stare down at me in shock.

I grinned up at him, "One down, twenty-eight to go."

"Oh, hell no," Tim growled, taking to kneeling in order to attempt to grasp my hands.

Somehow, I managed eleven vicious spanks to his backside before he managed to pin me face down on the bed with his body, my arms stretched above my head and secure in his grasp. Robbie had started to bark over all the activity and Tim had snapped at him to leave while he could, "It's going to get scary in here, buddy."

"Maybe for you," I turned my head in order to look at him out of my right eye.

"Says the captive to the captor," he replied.

I snapped my feet up and started to kick him, counting out with each rapid fire blow. He swore in a hoarse voice while he tried to block the kicks with his own feet, finally entwining our legs in order to prevent mine from striking him. Thankfully, he had been able to disrobe me for the most part and the excessive skin on skin contact had been a bit too much for his instinctual side to ignore.

"What are we up to," I asked, "Twenty-three?"

Shifting himself above me slightly, he spoke into my ear, "No, at least twenty-seven."

"Fine… then only two more."

"Good luck with that," he snickered.

"Come on… Take it like a man…" I teased, arching my back up against him.

The sudden pressure caused him to falter and he was quick to loosen the hold on my hands. Tim realized it immediately and tightened the vice like grip, but not before I was able to free my left hand. He cried out as I delivered the final two blows, my thin hands leaving red splotches on his rear.

"This is not how you're supposed to start a birthday," he growled as he regained hold of my free limb.

"Oh?" I bit lip as I felt him move between my legs, "Are you going to show me the right way?"

"Damn straight I am," he tried to sound rough and ragged as he took my two wrists into one of his palms. As he fumbled between my legs with his free hand he growled about how no one spanks Batman and gets away with it, the sheer thought of the words making my giggle into the mattress. He leaned over me again, "Laugh will you? Laugh at this…"

I didn't.

When he finally released me, I rolled over onto my back, gasping for air nearly as hard as he was. I reached over and set a hand on his chest, "Now… now we change the sheets."

Tim smirked up at the ceiling before nodding, "Agreed… cupcake."

Given that it was in fact his special day, I let him shower and change while I picked up the bedroom and tended to a bewildered Robbie. Donning one of Tim's tee shirts, I gathered the dirtied bedding, my discarded clothing, packing the hamper before taking it downstairs. Although Alfred had offered to aide us in tending to the Drake residence, given that it was much bigger than the townhouse, we had declined knowing he had more than enough to tend to next door. For the time being, we had the former housekeeper of the house, Ellen, drop by twice a week to catch up on the odds and ends. For the most part we were self-sufficient, basically relying on each other and a weekly grocery delivery service. It certainly helped that we were rarely in the great house to do more than eat and sleep. And play.

By the time Tim made it downstairs, I had the sheets almost ready to go in the dryer, a full pot of coffee brewed and was out on the back terrace watching Robbie chase birds in the sky. He sat beside me at the small wrought iron table, yawning loudly before saying, "So, we have a scheduling conflict for today."

I felt a flutter of panic before asking, "What?"

"Well, we have… our thing… at ten… and the caterers were coming to set up for the party at ten-thirty… even if you drove, there's no way we'd get back in time."

"We need an accomplice," I concluded.

Tim nodded before running his hands through his still wet hair, "Exactly… so question is, who do we bring to the dark side?"

"We're on the dark side?"

He shook his head, "Sorry… bad Sith joke."

After a moment of silent thought, we looked to one another and nodded. He said he would call over to Alfred so I could run upstairs and wash up. Before getting up, I asked, "Is that what you're wearing?"

Tim looked down at his dark blue jeans and rumpled gray shirt, "Well… what were you going to wear?"

"I don't know… something… nice, I guess."

He contemplated briefly, "I suppose you're right… Well, go shower, I'll pillage through what came back from the cleaners for something less twenty-eight and more twenty-nine."

I smiled as I rose to my feet, calling Robbie with a low whistle. Exhausted from futile bird hunting, the Boxer trotted up the steps, his big pink tongue curling out passed his flat face. We retuned the house, Robbie heading off with Tim while I ran back upstairs. It wasn't that I liked dressing up but it seemed like the right thing to do.

As I showered quickly, I smiled to think that Tim had nearly written off the thought of having a formal party until the week before. We had been watching a re-run of the Office, watching our favorite hum-drum Pennsylvanians dance it up in their Café Disco. Tim had looked over at me as we lounged on the couch and smiled, "I think I do want to do something, next weekend."

"Yeah?" I had asked.

"Yeah… it would be nice, for everyone, I think."

During my break the previous day, I had opted out of the traditional Friday lunch with the "boys" in order to pick out a nice dress. I had a very limited selection of nice clothes, and mainly they were slacks and blouses for working at the Firm. Of the dresses I did own, I had already been worn for dinners and parties, namely those attended by the late Jack and Dana Drake…

I needed something new, something pure, something fresh…

While dressing in the bathroom, I heard Tim return to the bedroom, Robbie grumbling through a plush toy. I had tried to tussle my short hair dry but ended up having to actually unearth my rarely used blow dryer. At that point, it was silly not to put on what little makeup I owned, seeing how it was such a special day.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, I smiled to see Tim standing in front of a full length mirror of the walk-in closet, adjusting a white tie over his pristine white shirt. As he finally buttoned up the black blazer, he turned to me and said, "Well, we better boogie if we're… going… to… damn."

"You like?" I inquired before offering a quick spin, causing the calf length silk chiffon dress to flirt away from my legs. The sleeveless body was tightly fitted to my torso while the skirt hung loosely from my hips, the uneven double layer of material always in motion. The startling white of the dress was broken up by a single black band around my waist.

"I… damn… we better go before I make a mess of the bed again."

"What a gentleman…" I commented as I donned a pair of white flat shoes. He was lucky I was wearing a dress for him, I wasn't about to compromise my agility with heels. "Speaking of which, did you call him?"

"Yes, he said he would be over at ten… hopefully we'll be back by eleven," Tim said as he stepped out into the corridor.

Nodding, I bid farewell to Robbie after making sure he had a few snacks on his dog bed and enough toys out to keep him occupied. When I made it to the ground floor, Tim was no where in sight and I decided he was already out getting his car ready. Stepping out through the front door, I activated the security system and glanced around the driveway. Rather than pull around in his Honda or any of the cars he had inherited from his father, I grinned to see him drive out from behind the massive garage with Bruce's glossy black Jaguar convertible.

I knew it had been a waste to blow dry my hair.

"Did you borrow this?" I asked while climbing into the passenger's seat.

Tim donned a pair of dark sunglasses before looking over at me, "Nope. I stole it."

"And your health insurance is up to date?"

"I double checked before I took the car after patrols last night. Besides, if he's going to hurt me, he's going to have to catch me first."

"I'm not worried about the bat so much as the cat."

He gulped audibly before putting the car into first, "You're right… we better play it safe. Go the long way… into town."

"Wise in your old age," I smirked as we sped off.

"Not the years, it's the mileage…" We were nearly to midtown before Tim cried out, "Oh crap."

"What?" I asked, worried he had left something behind in Bristol.

"Think Bruce knows the mileage on this?"

^V^

Staring down at Bruce as he slept, I contemplated not waking him before I headed out. I could have easily skipped out on bidding farewell to my sleeping family, letting them enjoy their Saturday morning. It was as Kitten woke and padded over to me that I decided at least the kids deserved to sleep in…

There was no point in saying his name as Bruce never slept with his hearing aides in, even the new modified ones he had concocted that were much smaller, much stronger and far more comfortable. I took a seat on the bed, stroking Kitten's face before setting a hand on Bruce's chest, clawing at him through the comforter. When his eyes fluttered open, I leaned in and kissed his cheek before talking into his right ear, "I'm heading out."

Rather than respond, Bruce cleared his throat quietly and began to sit up. He glanced at the bedside clock as he reached to turn the lamp on, "It's quarter of six."

When his eyes were on my face, I explained, "Yeah… I have to be back here by one for Tim's party…"

"Right…" he nodded as he reached over to rough up Kitten's scruff. The kitten turned around and promptly swiped claws at his attacker but it only made Bruce smirk before doing it again.

"Alfred will get them up, he was going to take them to get a gift after breakfast. I'll be back just in time to shower and change, but they need to be ready… and Terry will be coming by around eleven."

"Terry?"

"Mattie asked if she could bring him, we said yes."

Bruce shook his head, "You said yes. I said no."

"Which, combined, means yes."

He grunted, finally letting Kitten be. Bruce rubbed his face slowly before saying, "Fine. They'll be ready."

"As will you."

A fake smile spread over his face, "As will I."

After kissing him once more, I shut the lamp off and made my way out of the room. Leaving my slumbering children to continue dreaming of racing across rooftops and making touchdowns, I quickly made it to the stairs and took them two at a time. Alfred had not been on the ground floor to see me off, which made me feel slightly less guilty about hitting the bakery in town for coffee and an egg white sandwich.

A top twenty hip hop station, abundant fog and warm hazelnut aromas kept me company for the ride, the only missing entity being my daughter. Since school had let out, she had been rather dedicated in joining me most days at the Preserve, volunteering in the activity center in any way she could. There had even been a few days when she had conned some of her friends to get up and out of bed early enough to join her. I always treated them to coffee on the way up, lunch in the cafeteria and ice cream on the way home, doing what I could to encourage return visits. The girls were getting to an age where they would start making decisions about what kind of adults they would grow up to be.

The busier they were working, the less trouble they would get into.

My daughter had plenty of extra-curricular activities to keep her in line, in fact she had too many. Regrettably, she decided that in order to pursue her training with Tim and Cassandra, she needed to consolidate her interests. The first sacrifice had been Coltrane but thankfully we had given him to her riding instructor Janet who had promised to keep him as a lesson horse. I had taken Mattie to visit a few times so she could at least groom him, sneaking in a ride once in a while. There was no questioning that it had been the right choice given that there was also no questioning the direction her life was taking.

If she had been upset about the ordeal, she had never shown it.

Daddy's little girl…

I knew gymnastics would give way eventually, especially as she furthered her skills beyond what was applicable to youth competitions. Dick had sat down and talked with her briefly before her last competition during the school year. I was fairly certain Bruce had been behind it, but Dick had told her that although it was okay to showcase her abilities at home, doing so in public would make her stand out. And when you had a secret identity, the last thing you wanted was to have people remember you for being outstanding at something.

At that competition, she had perfected the balance beam and vault but had purposely fumbled her floor exercise, going out of the boundary once and even so much as falling during a diagonal routine. Rather than be upset that she had to do less than her best, Mattie had come up to me afterwards, winking while saying, "I'm such a klutz."

"You're such a something," I had countered.

Thinking of that day made the car seem far too empty that morning. We had decided the night before that she would stay home seeing how Terry wad coming over before Tim's birthday party. There was no way I was going to make it back in time to make sure everyone was ready, in addition to myself, so I had left the family in her and Alfred's care. Although I had given Bruce verbal instructions while I had dressed that morning, I had the failsafe in effect to make sure nothing went wrong.

I had been surprised when Tim had dropped by earlier in the week with an invitation to his birthday party, sheepishly claiming it was going to be semi-formal but lots of fun. When I asked if I could help, given the short notice, he had replied that everything was actually pretty much taken care off and that all I had to do was bring my family and my appetite.

After a Wayne Foundation banquet two weeks earlier, it would be Bruce's second public appearance since he fought the Joker. The dinner had been simple enough, barely two hours long and he thankfully only had to sit at the head table and accept well wishes. By the third course, I had been able to tell that he was done playing nice, but I had kept my hand on his through the remaining courses, encouraging him onward. At least with Tim's party, he wouldn't be the center of attention and would be able to relax, not to mention he could leave whenever he wished.

The first few weeks of summer had been difficult, for certain, but once he managed to get into the swing of his new routine, he seemed to act more like himself. The determination and unrelenting spirit I had fallen in love with found its way through the thick shell. Aside from the rehabilitation he was undergoing with Leslie and with a physical therapist that came out to the house, Bruce had been diligently working on his memory recall, using self generated computer programs to test himself.

Bruce had the cast taken off of left leg just after the Independence Day weekend, leaving him to wear a full length leg brace when he was up and around during the day. He was more than happy to start rebuilding strength to atrophied muscles as opposed to regaining flexibility. Alfred and Leslie both agreed that as he felt physically and emotionally better, the refusal to have additional orthopedic modifications on his leg would ebb. Either that or I would sedate him myself and drag his crippled ass to the ortho clinic.

Despite the fact that the misty morning gave way to a flawless blue sky and warm temperatures, I found myself in an office instead of out touring the paddocks. Licenses needed renewing, proposals needed signatures, and expense reports needed authorizing. Although Bruce had initially funded the Preserve, thankfully it had become fairly self-sufficient with its own line of income from private donators, association grants and federal funding. I had once promised Bruce to pay him back but he had been quick to tell me that I already had before kissing my ring finger.

Such a sap at times…

My cell phone rang at a little before ten and I answered expecting some sort of drama to have erupted at the house. I was pleased to hear straight from Alfred that everything was fine. "I am afraid, Ms. Selina, that I must leave the children in Master Bruce's care. Master Tim has asked that I oversee the caterers arriving while he and Ms. Cassandra tend to a personal matter."

"Personal matter?"

"He assured it me it was a simple errand… for the party. I offered to attend to it myself but he declined. I am due at their residence shortly. The children have their outfits for the party in order and simply need to wash and change at one."

"Does 'the children' include the big child?"

Alfred hesitated before answering, "But of course."

I heard Bruce's voice in the background and couldn't help but laugh. "I'll come home a little early then… make sure they at least have clothes on."

By ten-thirty, my wrists were cramped from attacking a keyboard and my fingers were aching from signing my name to an infinite number of documents. I had to leave by eleven-thirty in case traffic of traffic on the thruway and still had quite a few things left on my to-do list. After freshening up in the faculty bathroom, I made my way to the rec center and made an appearance at each of the activity centers. It still made me speechless to see children of all ages and backgrounds learning about what they could personally do to help the environment and that animal welfare activism was the right path as opposed to the devious ploys of animal rights activism.

After grabbing a turkey sandwich and a cran-apple juice from the cafeteria, I decided to end the morning walking down the trail that looped around in between the paddocks, hoping to catch a glimpse of some of the residents. It was well passed their feeding time, so the few I managed to spot were sacked out in the sun on large rocks or in the cool, shady grass. Returning back to my normal routine had taken a few days to get used to but I couldn't have been more grateful

Bruce had been right, everything was going to be fine.

After that, I made a quick stop at the medical building, checking in on the few patients that were under veterinary care. There were a number of big cats, namely lions, tigers and a cantankerous ocelot, that were in for the day for some dental work. In addition, there was a cheetah that had sustained a significant laceration to his tail during an overzealous romp with his paddock-mate and had been in for the week after the initial suturing for daily antibiotics.

The last patient had been our oldest Bornean clouded leopard who had been showing signs of chronic renal failure over the last year. Although he had been responding well to dialysis and dietary management, his advanced age was working against him. He had been in the med center for two weeks in a small, quiet pen at the end of the hall, quietly accepting IV fluids, undergoing dialysis and doing what he could to eat blended meals to help boost his system. Reaching his pen, I looked through the barred door to see Dr. Carnrike sitting with him, trying to hand feed him.

"Oh Rajang," I said softly, before unlocking the door and letting myself in.

Dr. Carnrike glanced up at me briefly, "He's comfortable… Slept through most of the night..."

"Poor guy…" I knelt beside her, gently putting my hand to his muzzle before gently stroking his face.

"I've pushed two liters of lactated wringers since six this morning… He's really been going downhill since dialysis yesterday afternoon, I don't think he'd survive another round."

"Poor old man," I smiled as throaty purrs came from the exhausted cat. Being one of the very first residents of the Preserve, I had known him since he was a spry and sassy ten year old, a reject from a zoo in Florida. He apparently had aggression issues but I had never seen a hint of them in his seven years with us. As I gently rubbed the thick spotted fur over his thin shoulders, I nodded, "Well, I promised to do right by you, Raj… and I will…"

It wasn't exactly how I had intended to end my morning at the Preserve but I wouldn't have been able to be remotely sociable at Tim's party had I been left wondering about the ill cat. After leaving briefly, Dr. Carnrike had returned with a technician to aide in euthanizing him but I had stayed put. I sat with him, holding Rajang's head in my lap, caressing his face and purring to him long after he was gone.

I cried most of the way home, suddenly thankful that Mattie hadn't come along.

It was just after twelve-thirty when I pulled up the drive to Wayne Manor, smirking at the thought that at least it was still standing and not even remotely on fire. Bruce was still on a self-issued sabbatical from work and spent most of his days with Nathan and occasionally with Mattie. Granted Alfred was usually available to help, Bruce had claimed that he was more than capable of handling his own children.

Good thing we had Nathan to act as a firm reminder…

I parked the Pilot in the garage and took the service entrance inside. The ground floor was clear but I heard a commotion upstairs and quickly made my way up to it. Reaching the third floor, I heard Mattie yelling at someone. Passing Nathan's open door, I deduced it wasn't a sibling feud since he was on his bed brushing Ace's hair with a human comb. Without even saying hello to him, I continued to Mattie's room, finding the bedroom door in pieces all over her floor.

The shrill shouting drew my attention up and over to the sitting area where Bruce was trying to get a word in to his worked up teenaged daughter. Before he could do something he would further regret, I stepped in, "What the hell is going on?"

Mattie glared at me, "He's insane!"

Bruce shot back, "It was an accident," he looked to me as if that sufficiently defended his case and explained why the door was kindling.

As Mattie resumed shouting, I saw that Terry was also in the sitting room, standing just behind Mattie in his adorable two piece suit, the same one he had taken Mattie the spring formal in. He looked absolutely horrified at what was going on and I instantly began putting pieces of the puzzle together.

"Enough," I snapped. "Mattie, you need to get dressed. Terry, why don't you go downstairs and watch TV in the den."

"Yes, ma'am," he said before quickly running by us and into the hall.

Before Bruce could say anything, I snapped, "And you, go to your room."

"Excuse me?" he growled.

I growled right back, "You heard me. Now." When I was alone with Mattie, I asked, "Okay… what happened to the door?"

She took a deep breath and then said, "Terry and I were just in here playing video games and Dad was knocking on the door but I didn't hear him… I locked it because Nathan kept sneaking in and bugging us… Then, out of nowhere, Dad just knocked the door down, started yelling at me for no reason."

"I'm sure there was a reason, kiddo… whether or not it was real however…" I shook my head, "I'll talk to him… just get dressed, okay?"

"But Mom-."

"Get dressed. Then make sure your brother gets dressed. Then we are leaving. No but's."

I found Bruce in our bedroom, grumbling to himself as he stood before the bathroom mirror. As I approached, I noticed he had taken his shirt off and was examining his bruised shoulder and upper arm. When he spotted me, Bruce opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off, "Calmly, and quietly, explain to me what happened."

Like his daughter, Bruce drew a long breath before saying, "I went to tell her to start getting ready… and the door was locked. I've told her not to lock her door, especially when she has a friend over."

"Especially when she has her boyfriend over, you mean?"

"Selina…"

"Bruce."

He proceeded, "I knocked, called her name loudly, no answer. In fact, all I could hear was…"

"Was what?"

"Screaming… Mattie screaming something."

"Bruce, for the love of God-," I rolled my eyes before demanding, "What was she screaming?"

His cheeks had already been flushed with anger, but now the color suggested embarrassment, "She was screaming his name… telling him… to do it harder… and faster. I reacted appropriately, entered the room through force and found that I had slightly overestimated the situation…"

"You knocked down the door because she was cheering him on while playing a video game…. And because you have overzealous hearing aides and a filthy mind?"

"Okay… I moderately overestimated the situation."

There was a long moment where Bruce simply stared at me.

Finally, he looked away and said to himself, "I may be deaf… but I know what I heard."

^V^

I hadn't seen Tim since he had buried his father and step-mother.

No, that wasn't entirely true.

I had just arrived at the Watchtower for a meeting earlier that week when a familiar face also made an appearance in the teleportation bay. While he took a moment to regain his bearings, I had smiled at the sight of plain clothed Tim Drake, "Long time no see."

He had smiled as well before taking a proffered hand, "Sorry… I've almost got life back in order."

Noting that the scar on his face had been altered and was barely visible, I nodded, "So I see… well, you know that there is no rush, Tim. When you're ready, you're ready."

"I appreciate it," he had released my hand in order to reach into a leather shoulder bag. Retrieving a black and silver envelope, he had handed it over, "Having a birthday party this weekend… would love if you and Lois could make it."

Without opening it, I had readily agreed, "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

He had been quick to explain that he didn't have much time and had a few dozen invitations to distribute between the members on site as well as leaving some for those coming on duty that night. I had wanted to ask if it was a strictly superhero gathering but hadn't been able to word it in my head favorably.

That evening when I had returned home, I had told Lois about it and she had seemed absolutely thrilled. When I had asked her why, she had explained, "First of all, I can get Perry to expense this dress I want to buy if I wear it to a party… and any party in Gotham would certainly count…"

"Lois-."

She had continued, "Second, I haven't seen or heard from Bruce since the dawn of time…"

"Well, he's been through-."

"And no one has interviewed him about what happened… it will be the first exclusive out there…"

"Lois… he's our friend. And after what he went through… I doubt he'd even talk about-."

She had ignored me, talking more so to herself than to me, "And I don't want to jump to any conclusions here but Pulitzer does have a nice ring to it…" Lois had paused before adding, "And… you two can patch things up."

"Patch things up?" I had asked while loosening my tie, "I don't think there is a patch big enough."

"You just stood there defending him against my internal rabid investigative reporter. Clark…" she had set her palms against my chest, "I think you're more than capable of fixing things."

And that had been that.

Since Lois had been able to put a spin on things for the chief, we had flown business class from Metropolis to Gotham, picking up a rental car as opposed to trying to flag down an elusive taxi or bother Alfred with picking us up. I hadn't been to Gotham since Jack and Dana Drake's funeral and hadn't even made the attempt to speak with anyone in the Family save for Barbara when the Justice League needed her expertise.

Things were different.

Dick and Bruce were both on the road to recovery, although from what I had heard, Dick would not need additional surgery and should be back to have a functioning left arm by late November. Bruce, on the other hand, was refusing additional surgeries to his leg in order to regain minimal mobility. I had my thoughts on why he didn't want them but I had kept them to myself. Aside from that, everyone else had seemed to move beyond what had transpired, trying to put the pieces back together, even Tim.

I had no intentions of staying the weekend but Lois had already booked us a room at the Marriott. After checking in and finding our twenty-first floor suite, I set our luggage down in the bedroom before approaching the floor to ceiling window. As she unpacked enough clothes to last an entire week, I opted to look out over the morning skyline, the sunlight driving out the shadows of Gotham and making it look like a brilliant city.

The early flight had been worth the effort, arriving at airport aboard JetBlue at precisely five after ten. It gave us plenty of time to settle in, have lunch in town and make an appearance at the party. Although I was certain Bruce would be in attendance, I was wary of broaching the subject in question there. Perhaps it could wait until Sunday…

I returned to the bedroom as Lois called out, "When are you going up?"

"Excuse me?"

She turned away from me to hang her dress up in the closet, "You heard me."

"I did, I just didn't understand you."

"We talked about this," Lois said as she faced me.

"About what?" When she glared at me, hands on her hips, I sighed, "Lois… no. I'll… I'll talk to him tomorrow. There's no need to bother him right this minute."

"Clark, darling…" she reached up and undid the top button of my polo shirt, "Go talk to him. Or I will. With my trusty tape recorder."

For Bruce's sake, and my own, I relented. Promising to be back for lunch and shoe shopping, I made my way to the stairwell on our floor, scanning quickly to see the coast was clear before flying to the roof and out the service door. I was always amazed at how quickly the hub-bub of the city gave way to the quiet, elite countryside of Bristol. Having spent equal parts of my life on the plains of Kansas and the bustle of Metropolis, I had a hard time understanding the appeal of neighborhoods filled with houses big enough for entire family trees let alone a single family.

Let alone for a young boy and his butler…

Shortly after the Joker had been taken down, J'onn had informed me that Tim has asked him to perform a memory block on Nathan. He had given the reason as being that the young boy had experienced far too much, far too soon and he didn't want him to suffer as Bruce had at a similar age. With his father comatose at the time, Tim had stepped in to protect the innocent without hesitating. He had done the right thing.

Thinking that, I chose to land just inside the gates, walking up the landscaped driveway instead of soaring directly up to the house. The hedges and meticulous trees and gardens were in full bloom, bringing life to the once gloomy grounds. Surely I had set off a dozen motion sensors but given that I wasn't targeted by a barrage of rubber bullets or taser darts, I decided that it was safe to assume I was a welcomed guest.

A quick scan of the house showed no sign of Alfred, Bruce showering upstairs and the children in the back yard with an enormous black dog. I walked around the left side of the house, following the sound of playful barking and laughter. As I rounded the corner, the laughter continued but the barking immediately stopped as the dog stared intensely at me. Although there was no way he would have been able to harm me, I certainly didn't want him to try, breaking his pearly white fangs on my skin in the process.

Nathan squealed at the sight of me, then called out to the German Shepherd, "Ace, sitz!"

The dog stopped glaring at me long enough to look back at Nathan as he took a seat on his muscled haunches. As Nathan trotted by, patted the dog's head and told him, "Bleib," before continuing towards me. The dog seemed to relax but never took his eyes off of me. He must have been Bruce's given his innate distrust in superhumans…

As I walked over, Mattie greeted me, "Uncle Clark!"

"Hey guys…" I smiled down at them, quick to catch Nathan when he sporadically leapt at me. It was sad to think that he, much like his father, had lost certain memories. But at least for Nathan, it was in his best interest.

After hugging me, he pointed at the dog that had "That's my dog, Ace,"

"He's a very big dog," I commented.

"He's my best friend. He protects me," Nathan announced before slithering out of my arms and calling the dog over in German.

I found Mattie smiling up at me, "Here for Tim's party?"

Watching Nathan hug the Shepherd that easily weighed twice as much as he did, I replied, "You bet… Figured I would come up early, see you guys… maybe talk to your Dad."

"He's upstairs getting ready," she stated.

"Ah, well I'm sure I can hang out with you until he comes down."

Mattie nodded before taking a seat in the grass, looking up at me until I did the same. Nathan ran over and handed her a slimy tennis ball, "I have to pee… I'll be right back."

As he ran into the house, Mattie tried to distract the dog by throwing the ball, but he opted to follow his best friend instead of running after his toy. Alone, Mattie looked up at me and smirked, "So…"

"So… been having a good summer vacation? Barbara said you had a great gymnastic meet in June, sorry we couldn't make it."

"It's okay… I bet you were busy."

I felt a twinge of guilt, wondering just how many times she had to have heard that excuse before she started reciting it herself. "Well, we will certainly be out for the next one, you just let me know, okay?"

She nodded as she drew her legs up and hugged them to her chest. As she focused on the ball as it sat in the manicured grass, Mattie asked, "Did you fly in last night?"

"This morning."

"Is Lois here, too?"

Nodding, I explained, "She's in the city… we have a hotel room… going to go out for a light lunch before the party."

I watched as she battled a smile but before I could ask what was so funny, Mattie spoke up, "Then you must have actually flown in… if Lois came."

"Excuse me?"

When she finally looked up at me, the smile had won.

She knew.

Bruce would have never told her…

At the Watchtower, she must have… But…

"Mattie?"

My momentary fit of thoughts had been interrupted by Bruce's voice. We both looked to see him standing on the terrace, one hand on the wrought iron railing and the other leaning on a black, glossy cane.

"Uncle Clark's here," she announced as she jumped to her feet. I rose as well, albeit more slowly.

Bruce looked me over, the intensity of his eyes similar to that of Ace's, "So I see… Terry's father is pulling up… why don't you meet him at the door."

"Okay," she said before looking up at me, "I'll see you at the party."

"Yes…" was all I was capable of saying. Although I stared at him briefly, I opted the wiser course was to approach him rather than force him to walk down the stone steps and across the lawn. I had expected him to be back to form after the time that had lapsed but I had been too hopeful. He had lost at least twenty pounds, leaving his tailored slacks to hang from his hips and the breeze to cause his slate blue shirt to billow slightly. He had some color to his face, suggesting he had at least been spending time outdoors.

"Good to see you, Bruce," I nodded slightly, hesitating before offering my hand.

He nodded back but made no attempt to shake. A force of habit, I scanned him briefly, nearly cringing at the physiological changes from head to toe. I had read through the police reports and been on top of what the press had covered from official statements as well as updates from Barbara. Seeing the cold, painful words in person…

He finally released the railing, briefly squeezing my palm, "Lois in town?"

I nodded, "Yeah, she wanted to do lunch… buy new shoes for the party. You know Lois…"

"I do," he smirked before turning away in order to take a seat at the table. I waited until he was safely in a chair before sitting beside him. After asking where Selina was, he replied, "On her way home from the Preserve… she's been trying to catch up on everything."

"I bet…"

"And Alfred has been called into active duty next door."

I glanced through the acre of trees to see the bustle of people setting up tables under a large white tent, "Ah… leaving you home alone with these two."

"Three… Mattie's… boyfriend is coming to the party."

I then looked towards the house and smiled to see Mattie and a young teenaged boy ascending the stairs inside. "Boyfriend, hunh?"

"Don't start," he growled.

Not wanting to laugh, I changed the topic, "Tim looks good, ran into him at the Watchtower the other day. Looks great actually. Considering everything that happened."

"He's strong willed. Takes a lot to break him down."

A lot. As in walking in the crime scene of a mass murder and finding your father and step-mother amidst the blood bath.

"How's Dick?"

"Fine," he answered a bit too quickly, "They'll be there this afternoon… with Ethan." A brief smirk tugged at the corners of Bruce's mouth at the mere mentioning of his grandson's name. At least that hadn't changed...

"Have the cast off long?" I found myself asking without thinking.

"Almost a week…" he pulled up the left leg of his black slacks revealing the base of a leg brace, "Have to wear this now… but at least it comes off at night."

Silence fell between us. I glanced over at him, my eye automatically landing on his right hand. Even without using my radiographic vision, I had been able to see the knotted calcification on the back of his hand where the metacarpals had healed incorrectly. It had been three months since that night in the Cave. The night I had let him know he had made a mistake. The night he had hit me hard enough to send me flying.

With a wave of guilt washing over me for the second time in mere minutes, I finally said, "I'm sorry, Bruce."

He didn't hesitate to ask, "For what?"

"For everything… For saying what I did… for… challenging your plan at the Watchtower… For… For not coming to see you after-."

"Clark… I… I don't remember any of that…" he said with sincerity.

I glanced over at him, shock washing over me. Of course… he had already suffered from memory problems after undergoing radiation, on top of the skull fracture, hypoxia and the coma…

Then he winked at me.

"You're an ass," I chuckled.

"Yes, I am aware of that." He cleared his throat before adding, "Selina told me that I needed to apologize to you if you showed up at the party."

"Lois told me to do the same."

He sighed heavily, his hand gently beginning to massage his left thigh, "We were once titans… now look at us…" When we glanced at each other, Bruce corrected himself, "I guess just look at me…"

I had always joked that Bruce would outlive us all on his will power alone, never imagining that one day he wouldn't wear the guise he had created or that he would be anything but the perfect physical specimen, a master of everything. When he had stepped down, giving the cowl to Tim, he had invited me to the Manor for brunch to explain everything. Six years later, I still had a hard time accepting it.

Seeing him sitting beside me, smirking as he said his grandson's name, fretting over his teenaged daughter's boyfriend, distraught over being completely under the control of his wife… it finally sank in.

He was human after all.

^V^

"Now this… is… awesome."

Laying on the padded table of a treatment room, I was flat on my back as my physical therapist Greg shot laser beams though my skin. I had already done a round of what I perceived to be useless sound wave therapy to help encourage proper nerve communication and cell growth. But by dealing with it led me to the next step in my new age physical therapy schedule. Namely, thirty minutes of low level laser therapy, releasing endorphins as it worked its mystical magic magicness.

"Good to hear, Dick," Greg commented as he guided the paddle over my bare shoulder.

Given my progress, I was still technically in my immobilization period, but Dr. Yeoung had given me permission to wear only the sling instead of having the arm wrapped to my chest. By the end of August, I was due to start actual physical therapy in order to regain muscle tone and range of motion in my left wing. As tempting as it was to start working my arm, I was far too grateful to risk injuring it, especially after I had gotten lucky the night I hadn't saved Bruce…

I was silent until Greg turned the machine off, putting it away in its padded black bag before returning to my bedside. He looked over my arm and nodded, "Great… some minor fasciculation but that's no biggie… great circulation… Might burn a little in an hour or so but other than that everything looks fine."

Sitting upright, I kept my left arm folded and pressed to my bare chest, "Music to my ears."

"And mine… it was a pretty serious injury… you are a very lucky man, Dick."

"So I keep hearing… So, what's left?"

"Actually, why don't we call it quits for today," Greg had suggested, "We'll do some hydrotherapy Monday afternoon, maybe the magnet wrap… we certainly accomplished more than I thought we would today."

"I'm a good patient…" I smirked as I pulled my tee shirt over my head. He was quick to help me feed my left arm trough its sleeve but let me put it on the rest of the way myself. I added, "Good enough for a lollipop…"

Greg laughed at that, "On you're way out. Pick a time with reception…" he watched as I donned my sling, "We will see you Monday."

I shook his right hand with mine, "Thanks."

As I made my way down the brightly lit corridor, I reached reception just as a young girl in a leg brace was departing. I had learned a few weeks earlier that her name was Shelby and she had been in a hit and run incident. From the little details I had picked up from her parents, I had given them to Tim who had in turn located the man that had dared to hit a child with his car and drive off.

Out of the blue, the suspect had confessed to police, handed his car over as evidence and pleaded to spend the rest of his days behind bars.

After picking a four-thirty appointment out, I stepped out of the air conditioned building and into the humid July mid-morning air. Barbara had opted to stay home with Ethan, leaving me to drive to and from my appointment and to run a few errands. Like any good husband, I readily agreed to do things for my wife but was often unprepared for what it entailed.

Returning to the Range Rover, I let the air conditioning come on while I reviewed the detailed list of places to go and things to do. Given the time, I raced over to the post office first, bought stamps from the machine and mailed out eight envelopes for her. Babs was goddess of the information highway and yet she still used snail mail. Next, I marked off the dry cleaners before backing out of my parking spot at the post office. It was just three blocks away and was the second easiest of the tasks. After submitting my ticket, paying for the services rendered and obtaining a week's worth of suits, I was right back in the driver's seat staring at the list.

Continuing with the trend of easy before difficult, I stopped by a CVS quick to pick up diapers for Ethan and a Snickers bar for myself. I had overslept for the first time in weeks that morning, thus forcing me to attend my appointment on an empty stomach. I hadn't meant to stay up late the night before, but I had found myself feeling restless and tense. A six hour block of playing one-handed Wii games had helped but it had put me to bed after four in the morning for the first time in far too long.

From there, the To Do list directed me to the Hallmark store where I had to pick up a card for Tim, one Barbara had described in detail for me, as well as small bunch of black and silver balloons. She had already picked up his gift earlier in the week, of which she had yet to tell me what it was. I also had to stop by the grocery store and get Skim milk for her and whole milk for Ethan, on top a few other things that I was fairly certain were still present in our refrigerator.

I made it home just before one, my only functioning arm filled with my midday bounty. Given how quiet the apartment was, I reasoned that Babs had managed to get Ethan down for a nap early. Rather than call out her name, I navigated to the kitchen before carefully unloading the bags onto the small table. Before I could begin to put the groceries away, Frank came charging down the hall, sounding as if it was a herd of elephants as opposed to a burly French bulldog. In order to entice him to not growl or bark, I quickly unearthed treats from a box on the counter, holding them out just as he breached the kitchen.

He gruffed twice and I smiled down at him, "Franky… come on, buddy… You know you don't want to wake the baby…"

Tempting a small bark, he licked his lips, cocked his ears and then decided it was a worthy bribe to remain silent.

Groceries put away, balloons anchored to a chair and card safe in its white paper bag, I took the dry cleaning and the plastic bag of Ethan goodies with me. I quietly set his ill gotten gain in front of his door before proceeding to the master bedroom.

"Honey, I'm home," I whispered.

Finding the shower running, I continued being a good boy and hung the suits in the closet, save for the one I intended on wearing to the birthday party. I thought it was odd that he was going to have a formal event but he had promised all of the food I could eat so I had kept my complaint silent. Barbara thought it was nice that he was treating himself, as did the rest of the Family. I had known Tim just as long as the rest of them and yet I was the only one doubting the reason behind the act. He had miraculously bounced back to his old self, dedicating himself to his work in and out of the mask as if the hellish six months had never happened.

I couldn't help but wonder just how much of it was a performance…

Knowing I would need to wash up as well, I carefully pulled my tee shirt off before unzipping my jeans and kicking them off. Taking a seat on the bed, I gently pulled my arm out of the sling, instinctively keeping it flush against my torso. Although I wasn't one for doting upon memories forever branded on me with scars, my eyes immediately fell to my left shoulder. Those memories were impossible to shake.

A soft pink line, nearly half of an inch thick marred the top of my trapezium, traveling from just the end of my neck to nearly the point of my shoulder, with various small hash lines branching off in opposite directions. I felt the tightness in my leg from where they had graphed nerve tissue, a feeling that would never go away. The muscle atrophy in my bicep and tricep was unnerving, making it look completely different than my right arm. I was still months away from recuperation, a torturous concept…

"Hey, just in time," I heard Barbara's voice.

Glancing over my good shoulder at her, I asked, "Leave me any water?"

"You'll have to find out… Did you make the post office?" she asked as I rose to my feet.

"Indeed," I replied before walking towards the open bathroom door. I paused briefly to ask, "When are we going up?"

"One-thirty-ish," she answered while adjusting the towel wrapped around her body, "I already gave Ethan a bath so when he wakes up, I just have to change him and get him dressed… I'll give him a snack on the way up but he can wait to actually eat when we get there."

I chided, "We should have adopted one that was at least housebroke…"

A slipper flew at my head and I ducked before Barbara threw the second one.

As I hopped into the shower, I heard her call out, "Oh, I forgot… Will is going to meet us here, follow us up… And Clark called, he wanted to caravan up as well."

"What?" I called out over the spray of water, "Is his cape broken?"

She muttered something to herself before speaking loud enough for me to hear, "Yes, Boy Wonder, Superman's cape is broken and he needs your help. That and he doesn't want to be there alone with his wife if no one from the JLA shows."

"Well, in that case," I smirked and began to feverishly lather soap into my hair.

Regrettably, I had grown far too accustomed to doing everything one handed, from showering and shaving to folding laundry and changing diapers. Self sufficient as I had become, it had only been a direct result from Babs refusing to do anything to help. Her reasoning was that she had learned to live without the use of her legs, the very least I could do was take care of myself with only one arm.

At precisely one-thirty, we rode down in the elevator as a clean, well-dressed and excited family. Sure enough, Will's SUV was idle in a spot on the curb and across the street, I spotted Clark eagerly waving out the window of a rental sedan, the rims of his glasses the thickest I had ever seen. Once we were in the Range Rover and pulling out of the ground floor garage, Will honked at me and called out the window in a vicious Bronx accent, "Hey, I'm driving here!"

His girls were the back seat giggling but Barbara was not amused when I yelled at him, "Get outta here!" As we started to honk at one another for no reason, I was certain that Babs wished that she had gotten in the driver's seat.

Putting our immaturity aside, we made the drive out of the city and into Bristol with relative ease. It felt odd driving by the turnoff for Wayne Manor, instead continuing to the next private road less than two miles later. What had been even stranger was seeing hundreds of balloons lining both sides of the Drake driveway, perfectly placed clusters every ten feet.

"Guess he already had balloons…" Barbara said quietly.

"He's turning twenty- nine, right? Like this isn't the big thirty bash…"

"No," she replied, her gaze never leaving the elaborate decorations as we inched towards the house, "I checked the other day… Wow…"

Wow was right. There were at the very least seventy cars already parked on the side lawn and the top of the driveway, courtesy of a trio of valets that vigilantly stood before the main entrance. I pulled up and told them we were going to park out back so Babs could use the side entrance and the eldest of the three replied, "You must be Mr. Grayson. Of course, go right around back of the garage."

Rolling my window down, I waved Will up, waiting for him to halt beside us, "Let the gent take your beast, we're parking out back."

Will had a bewildered look on his face, "This is nuts…"

I nodded, "I know… he said semi-formal, looks like he forgot what that meant."

After he and Clark pulled up to the valets, I backed up and then turned around to get behind the garage. Although there were a number of catering vans already there, I found the closest spot to the entrance had been left available. Pulling in, I smirked to see a piece of paper had been secured to a hedge limb, reading: The Graysons.

"I don't care if it is his birthday, I am going to kick this kid's ass…" I chuckled before pocketing the keys.

"It gets better, hon…" Babs commented while looking out her window. The flat plane of lawn behind the house was sheltered by a massive white tent, under which I spotted at least two dozen tables decorated in white and black.

"I knew I should have worn my nicer shoes," I sighed while getting out of the car.

Wife and son in tow, we traveled the small stone path leading off of the driveway, promptly greeted by a young woman in black slacks and a fitted white blouse. After being requested to give my name, she smiled broadly, "Right this way."

Entering the tent, I saw that most of the tables had already been filled, each guest assigned a seat. We joined Will and Ronna as they were taking their seats beside Bruce and Selina. The adjacent table housed Mattie, Terry, Will's girls, Nathan as well as Alfred and Leslie. Looking around, I spotted plain clothed heroes, young and old, the few family members Tim had come to know in recent months as well as young men and women I had assumed were his fellow college graduates.

I took my seat next to Bruce and asked, "What the hell is this… my super sweet sixteen?"

"My super what?" Bruce asked, further confused when Selina laughed at him.

"Never mind… How did Al get stuck at the kiddie table?"

Selina was quick to respond, "He volunteered, actually. Bruce wanted to sit between Mattie and Terry."

"I still should be sitting there…" he grumbled to himself.

For the following fifteen minutes, the tented area was a bustle of activity, with absolutely no sign of Tim or Cass. I rose briefly to find Clark and Lois sitting a few tables away with J'onn, Diana, Ollie, Dinah, Wally and Linda and surprisingly enough, an appropriately dressed Zatanna. As expected, they too were completely at a loss at how extravagant the event was and wanted to know if I had answers.

In summary, what the hell was Batman up to…

An announcement suddenly came through overhead speakers that I hadn't even seen, "Ladies and gentlemen if you would please take your seats…"

Doing as ordered, I collapsed into my chair and looked to Barbara, her eyes glassier than and her smile brighter than when I had left her a few minutes earlier. "What's going on, Babs?"

Before she could answer, the baritone of the announcer came back, this time saying, "Ladies and gentleman, it is a distinguished pleasure to introduce for the first time in public…"

^V^

I couldn't have wiped the grin off my face… even if I had used a straight razor.

Although financially it wouldn't have been a problem to go through the motions of a formal wedding, the mental toll of preparing one had been something that neither one of us wanted. That, and we had lost so much of ourselves in the last few months, so much time, that I couldn't stand to risk losing anymore. I had asked Cass the last weekend of June what path she wanted to take and she had replied, "Whatever I have to wear a dress for least amount of time… that one."

For a bank check of thirty-five dollars payable to the City Clerk of Gotham, our valid driver's licenses and a ten-thirty appointment on Friday, we had been married. Our witnesses had included a janitor mopping the floor, a pair of couples who were all best friends and wanted to get married at the same time as well as the City Clerk's assistant. Although the marriage license was activated upon being signed, it wasn't made accessible until twenty-four hours later. Given that the next day was Saturday, I had made special arrangements to meet the clerk at City Hall to retrieve it.

After a considerable donation to his re-election campaign.

Dressed in our finest, Cass and I had toured Robinson Park, stopping briefly to take up a pair of swings at one of the new jungle gyms. As we tried to see who could swing the highest, a woman in capris and a purple tank top came up to us, introducing herself as a freelance photographer. We had stopped and gotten off of the swings as she offered a business card.

"You two are stunning," she had remarked, "And what a way to celebrate your special day."

"How did you know?" I had asked.

"It would be impossible not to."

I had given her my business card and asked her to forward the prints to my e-mail and that we would certainly look through them. As the woman turned to leave, Cass had whispered into my ear, "Didn't get a photographer."

I had smiled at her before calling out, "Ms. Devon?"

Giving her the address and time of the reception, we had parted. Making our way back to the municipal parking lot, I had said, "See, I told you it was a good day to go to the park."

I had made a promise to my father's headstone that I would try to be happy… that I was going to marry Cass. Realistically, they were the same promise as the second I slipped the gold band onto Cass's finger, I felt an enormous weight slide from my shoulders. I had never pictured myself ever getting married, let alone to Cass. Yet as she had slipped a matching ring onto my finger, nothing had felt so right, so natural.

The drive to Bristol had been a breeze in the Jag. Sun beaming down on us, wind in our hair, we had been the very definition of happy and relatively young. With a setting sun, it was a different story but I had a good eight hours until I had to worry about that. Pulling up the drive, Cass had applauded at the sight of the balloons being put in place. We had literally designed the event in question on a Sims 3 game two weeks before, handing over the laptop to the woman in charge. She had hid her confusion well enough, claiming we were very talented and creative.

Lunatics would have been a better description…

With the posts put in the ground Friday afternoon, the massive crew that had arrived at our place at ten had only to put the actual tent up before setting up the tables and chairs and decorations. The sleuth-style wedding had required that the most amount of work be done in the least amount of time. The woman in charge of organizing the reception had hired thirty-nine attendants, not including the caterer and his twenty assistants. The trust fund was taking a substantial hit, but the look on everyone's faces made it worthwhile.

We had entered the house, Alfred was there to promptly greet us, Master Tim, Ms. Cassandra… I must say, I had not been expecting an event of this… grandeur…"

I had shrugged, "Neither had I… but I figured you only turned twenty-nine once."

"Indeed, sir…" he paused observing out formal and inadvertently matching attire. Then, "Well, the caterers are well into their food preparation, the attendants are diligently working on the tables outside and the remainder are attending to the decorations."

Nodding, I had replied, "Sounds great… Thank you, Alfred. For being here… really helped us out."

"It was a privilege, Master Tim…" there was another pause before he announced, "Also, the cake has arrived."

That had been something I had not intended on anyone seeing before the reception, namely because it was a fairly dead give away as to what type of cake it was, not to mention a key indicator as the real reason behind the party. Being who he was, surely Alfred had overseen the unloading and storage of the five tiered, white chocolate wedding cake.

"Oh, did it?" I had managed to ask with an even tone. Looking to Cass for support she had simply shrugged.

"Yes, sir. It is quite lovely," he had raised a thin, gray eyebrow at me before continuing, "Although with it's intricate details, I feel it would be poor judgment to put twenty-nine candles on it."

Gulping audibly, I had forced a smile to my lips, "Yeah, I guess… It really is too nice to be a birthday cake."

Rather than ream us out for hiding the truth from him, Alfred had curtly nodded, "Very well, sir. I will see to it that the caterer is informed immediately."

Once Alfred had disappeared down the corridor, Cass had punched my bicep. When I had demanded to know why, she had snapped, "Told you we should have gotten the other cake."

"You only wanted it because it was practically a twenty-pound cinnamon roll."

"Cheesecake. Cinnamon roll cheesecake."

From there, we had put ourselves to work despite the insistence of the workers that it was unnecessary. With reluctance, they gave us the task of placing name cards, of which in it self took nearly forty minutes, making sure everyone was seated appropriately based on age, relationship and superpower. While making a Justice League table, I had laughed at myself, thinking that the protectors of the world had no idea what was going on.

Although if you had asked Bruce, that was no different than any other day.

The idea to keep the matter secretive had spawned from Dick and Barbara hiding the fact that they had adopted a baby from the rest of the Family. Like most sibling rivalries, I had intended to do him one better. In the long run, we had all known deep down that he and Barbara wanted a family of their own, we just hadn't known what lengths they had taken to do so. In our case, the Family not only had no idea we had been engaged since Christmas, but that they weren't attending a birthday party but an actual wedding reception.

Consider yourself pwnd, big brother.

Alfred had found us in the tent helping with floral centerpieces, quickly announcing that the valets had arrived and were already attending to guests. Not wanting anyone to see us in fear of discovering the truth behind the party, Cass and I had made a quick trip upstairs to the bedroom. Watching through the front window, Cass had called out names of guests as they arrived while I sprawled on the bed with a snoring Robbie.

"There's Bruce…"

I had risen from the bed and made it to the window just in time to see Bruce and Selina walking towards the front entrance, Terry, Mattie and Nathan leading the way. With her arm hooked with her husband's, Selina had walked beside him as she slowly tackled each of the fifteen steps, trying to use his cane more than his wife's support. Although I had seen him infirm countless times before, the fact that it was a permanent change had left a foul feeling in my gut.

"Someday," Cass had whispered.

"What?"

"Someday… that will be us," her voice had taken a sad tone to it, one not fit for a wedding day.

I had kissed the top of her head before promising, "Not for a long, long, long time." As a second thought, I had swatted her behind, "Besides no kids… Not sure if I could handle trying to raise a little you."

She had laughed at that, "Or a little you."

"When I was little, I played Tekken video games. When you were little, you were Tekken."

Rolling her eyes, she had sighed, "Twenty-nine now… no more video game analogies."

Not thirty minutes later, we had been hailed by an attendant to make our way downstairs. The hum and chattering in the tent had been hushed when the announcer had said, "Ladies and gentleman, it is a distinguished pleasure to introduce for the first time in public… Mr. and Mrs. Timothy Drake!"

Entering the tent to soft music, we had found most of the guests staring in disbelief before making their way to their feet, applauding and even shouting out at us as we made our way to a small, elevated table. Glancing through the familiar faces, I found the Family seated a few yards away seated at two tables. Ronna, Selina and Barbara near tears, Dick's mouth was gaped open as he stood in silent shock. Will had been laughing hysterically and Leslie and Alfred stood together, proudly applauding. Even the kids were standing up, huge grins on their faces as the cheered.

Bruce had remained seated, a barely noticeable smirk on his lips.

When I had nodded in his direction, he had nodded back.

The buffet and open bar occupied a good hour or so, broken up by people coming up to the table that Cass and I shared, demanding to know what was going on. Dick had even pulled a chair up to lecture us about keeping secrets from the Family. He had quickly been dragged away by Alfred when he started getting upset at me for laughing in his face. After we had our share of fine cuisine and even finer cognac, we had acted as proper hosts, attending to each table and making nice. Reaching the Family, I had accepted a barrage of insults and scolds with a smile on my face.

To defend myself, I had replied, "It's my birthday, I'll get married if I want to."

After what had seemed like an eternity, the DJ had announced it was time to make our marital debut on the dance floor. Most couples our age would have swayed with one another to some romantic hip hop or country song, but we had decided to make a firm reminder that we were no where near normal.

Alone on the hardwood platform with all eyes on us, I grinned at Cass as she stood a few feet away, "Ready?"

She sighed, "I'm going to trip."

"No you won't… and if you do, trip me… that way you won't be alone."

The look on her face said she wanted to hit me. Since we were in public, she kissed me instead.

I nodded to the DJ and then returned my gaze to my bride. Taking a breath, I began to tap my foot in beat with the snare and cymbals that had had started up, lip synching along when Fred Schneider belted out, "If you see a faded sign by the side of the road that says fifteen miles to the... "

Cass joined in, mouthing, "Love Shack! Love Shack yeah!"

Without touching, we shimmied towards each other, getting within a millimeter before moving away, circling left and right, mouthing every word. I hadn't noticed immediately, but everyone had started laughing and clapping along. My smile turned into a sneer as I danced up behind Cass, finally touching her back with my chest as my arms waved in the air, "I got me a car, it's as big as a whale and we're heading on down to the Love Shack…"

Putting my hands on her hips, I proceeded with, "Got me a Chrysler, it seats about twenty So hurry up and bring your jukebox money!"

Cass reprised the chorus, popping her hips left and right for emphasis, "The Love Shack is a little old place where we can get together…"

They were my friends.

"Love Shack baby, Love Shack bay-bee."

They were my colleagues.

"Love baby, that's where it's at, ooo love baby, that's where it's at!"

They were my Family.

I grabbed Cass's hand, spinning her away and the immediately back to me, embracing her while singing along, "Sign says.. Woo... stay away fools, 'cause love rules at the Lo-o-ove Shack!" Releasing her, we promptly began emulating the twist in rhythm with the music, of which I was fairly certain made us look like complete fools. Thankfully, the smile on her face and in her eyes certainly made it worthwhile.

As the song progressed, so did our underused dance moves. That morning when we had been arguing about what song would be our first, torn between something sappy or something funny. Cass had admitted that she hadn't really danced since Barbara and Dick's wedding and even that had been goofing around with Mattie. I had offered to find us a last minute dance instructor but she had shrugged, "Nah… Jersey Shore is a rerun at noon… that should work."

There was truly no one else in the world for me.

Thankfully, the song ended to an uproar of applause and cheers and I found myself kissing Cass before whispering in her ear, "One dance down…"

"A thousand to go…"

"A million," I corrected her.

"Infinity."

That, we agreed on.

^V^

I had all intentions of making a brief appearance at the party, eating a light meal, having a glass of champagne and then going home.

The fact that it was a wedding reception cloaked in the guise of an extravagant birthday party had been… interesting. Interesting enough to stick around for more than just the roasted pork tenderloins and twice baked potato.

It was a surprise, to say the least. When Tim and Cass had finally toured around to our table during the meal, they had confessed to being engaged since Christmas of the previous year, never telling anyone after what had happened not a week later on New Year's. From there, Tim had explained that they had been married the day before at City Hall and had decided that if they were going to spend money and time on anything it would be for a party.

After they had left to greet more guests, I had grumbled, "Why the hell didn't I think of that?" earning a vicious slap from Selina. Correcting myself, I had stated, "I meant having a buffet. Not skipping the wedding."

Although the meal and the company was pleasant, I had to put significant effort into avoiding the odd glances and stares from my former colleagues seated at tables nearby. Once the open bar was flowing and the dance floor was open, Ollie and Dinah finally came over to chat briefly, mainly complimenting me on how beautiful Mattie was becoming and how Nathan was a perfect replica of myself. After that, a few others gained the courage to say hello, not daring to mention why my wife was on the dance floor with my son instead me.

Lois, after a few Stoli martinis, came over and asked if I liked her new dress. Instead, I had complimented her shoes and she had kissed me on the mouth. Calling over Clark to rescue me, I had been left alone at the table with Barbara, of which I had preferred. We chatted briefly but soon conversation lapsed and we simply stared out at everyone making complete asses of themselves.

Nathan returned to steal some water from my drinking glass before racing back to the dance floor, having made fast friends with some of Tim's college acquaintances who already had children.

"Little bastard," Barbara commented suddenly. When I looked at her, she added, "Not Nate… Tim… How could he have kept this from us?"

"He has his ways," I had replied, taking a sip of my drink. Selina had gotten it for me at the bar, calling it a "Dapper Dan". All I could taste was Jack Daniels and a hint of lemon-lime soda.

"Still…" she sighed. "I'm making his life a complete hell next time he's out on patrols. Run him all over this city… Cass, too."

When J'onn had visited with me earlier, he had stated that he was going to keep an eye on Gotham for the remainder of the weekend and possibly into next week, giving Tim and Cass time to celebrate like normal, young adults. I had asked where they were going and he had answered, "No where. Tim said that he wouldn't be able to leave, in case something happened."

I had thought to myself, The burden of the cowl. For my wedding, Selina and I had escaped to a private island in the Caribbean. Dick and Barbara had also managed to escape, albeit months after their wedding since Nathan had born the same day. The only two remaining protectors of Gotham, they couldn't leave with a clean conscience. I didn't know whether to feel guilty or proud.

Eventually, Barbara left to visit with a few of the female League members that she rarely saw in person. I watched from afar as they laughed and drank and chattered, blissfully happy. While I began to plan my escape, I felt a hand settle on my shoulder. Glancing over, I saw Tim sit down beside me, his tie loose and the top two buttons of his shirt undone.

"Congratulations are in order," I remarked.

"I guess so… sorry, didn't mean to pull one over on you."

"It's all right."

He leaned back into his chair, joining me in surveying the busy, loud tent. After a few silent minutes between us, he smirked, "Dad would have loved this… he was always on my case about settling down, starting a family… And having it here, God… he would have gone nuts… spent every dime he had…"

I nodded but chose not to say anything.

Tim proceeded, "You know… for a while… I regretted it… proposing to her. Used to wonder, why, why would we have to get married, what good would it do? Then I would look at Dick and Barbara, you and Selina… and that's all it took. I wanted what you guys had. I wanted that stability, that person to keep me grounded…"

My eyes had drifted from the partygoers to the frighteningly calm look on his face.

When he caught my gaze, he grinned, "Sorry, I have had a lot to drink."

"Understandable."

He ran a hand through his dampened hair, "Such a lightweight… always was…"

"Same here."

Tim laughed suddenly, "Yeah… remember that Christmas party my dad had… I must have been like eight years old… you came with that Italian model…"

"Alessandra," I smirked.

"That's right, Alessandra. I remembered that I knew her because there was a picture of her in one of my mom's Cosmos and I tore it out the next day, thinking she had been in my house… You were so gone…"

"It was an act," I tried to defend myself.

"No, you were packing away that lemon liqueur with her… on top of that punch… I remember you asking me if I had an ice cream sandwiches… and if you could have one… said you'd give me… a million dollars…" his words gave way to laughter, forcing the smirk to return to my face.

Selina returned a moment later, finding Tim laughing and me smirking instantly putting her at unease. "Well, you two are obviously cut off from the bar…"

Tim regained his composure and said, "No, just remembering the good old times."

"Ah," she said, taking a seat next to me. As she put her hand on mine, Selina commented, "I thought you were laughing about what happened earlier."

"What was that?" Tim was quick to ask.

I sat by, helpless, as Selina rehashed the bedroom door incident, adding in details that I was fairly certain weren't necessary to catch him up to speed. Her voice was nearly as animated as her face as she reached the punch line of the true story turned joke, joining Tim as he returned to laughing at my misfortune.

Plan be damned, I was leaving.

"Well, to be fair, we really cranked those hearing devices," Tim finally said, "It will come in handing if she ever tries sneaking out of the house again. Be able to hear a window crack from three rooms away… Or if she sneaks someone in…"

I glared at him but he smiled back.

It wasn't long before Cass found him, dragging him away so that she didn't have to face the hoards of people alone. Selina leaned over and kissed my cheek softly, "Did you know?"

Shaking my head, "Absolutely not."

As I turned to look at her, Selina nodded, "I believe you… Alfred said he would stay with the kids a while longer, if you wanted to go home."

My leg was throbbing in its brace, longing for ice packs or even a soak in the tub. As Tim had pointed out, my hearing aides were too finely calibrated for the event, making it possible to overhear far too many conversations. As a result, my head was throbbing, demanding for a quiet dark place to recover. Just by looking at her, I knew Selina wasn't ready to go but she would never let me leave alone.

"Okay," I replied.

At quarter of seven, we found Mattie, Terry and Nathan and told them to check in with Alfred or Leslie every thirty minutes until they decided to head out. Nathan had reminded us to feed and walk Ace before running off. Mattie, on the other hand, had stayed behind, stepping closer and asking if I was all right.

I touched her bare shoulder, "I'm fine, kitten, just tired."

Selina added, "You stay and have fun with Terry, okay?"

"But not too much fun," I amended her.

On the way out, we passed Dick as he and Will were talking with a civilian dressed Wally West. When we explained that we were heading out, Wally had asked, "It's is getting late, isn't it, grandpa?"

In the time it had taken him to recognize the look on my face, I stabbed Wally in the foot with the bottom of my cane before driving the handle of it into his lower abdomen. As he doubled over, hopping up and down on one foot, I nodded, "Good night, gentlemen."

Leaving the tent, Selina hooked her arm with min, "Bruce…"

"He asked for it."

She laughed as we slowly made out way out front to the valet station. It had a painful admission of necessity to drive next door but the walk back to the Manor would have not have been worth the detainment of independence. Letting her drive, I settled into the passenger seat, letting the cane rest between my legs as I closed my eyes.

"So, did you ask him… about the car?"

I smirked, thinking that Tim had borrowed the Jaguar in the wee hours of the morning. "No, I'll let him have it for the weekend, steal it back on Monday."

After pulling into our own garge, Selina parked the Mercedes in its spot and then killed the engine. Before she could have gotten around to my side to help me out, I was already up and on my feet, shutting the door behind me. Entering through the kitchen, Ace greeted us with soft whines and a big wagging tail. After Selina let him outside, she asked if I had enough to eat.

"Yeah…"

"Well, after today, I could use another drink…" she sighed before opening the fridge. At dinner, she had disclosed the fact that they had to euthanize one of the big cats, one I knew she ahd been very fond of. It brought up memories of her cat Isis and the cold, autumn funeral we had for her. Selecting a bottle of chilled sparkling white wine, Selina neglected finding glasses. I watched as she retrieved the dog and fed him, useless seeing how he wouldn't eat until Nathan was in sight later that evening. Wine bottle in hand, Selina then headed into the hall and by the time I reached her, she was already at the elevator, holding the door for me.

Regrettably, we had to pass Mattie's room in order to get to ours, pausing momentarily to look at the busted hinges. I had done my best to clean up the mess but there were still fragments of wood in the dark carpet. As we continued, she asked, "What would you have done… if they hadn't been playing a video game?"

"Aside from sending her to boarding school in Greece?"

Selina sighed, "Yes, of course… but I meant what would you have done to Terry, not Mattie…"

I didn't answer until we had reached out room, leaning over to whisper into her ear, "I would have made it look like an accident."

Laughing, she handed me the bottle so that she could remove her jewelry and secure them in the dresser. Letting my cane rest against the bed, I opened the foil wrapping and found that it was a self-releasing cork, only requiring the wire safety cover to be loosened. It popped off easily and I offered it to her for the first sip.

"Much obliged," she grinned before tasting the wine, "Ah, perfect."

Handing it back to me, I took a sip as well, nodding in agreement.

Selina was quick to slip out of her knee-length chiffon dress, kicking her shoes off as an afterthought. When she turned to face me, wearing nothing undergarments, I sighed, "I'm exhausted, Selina, I…"

"Shut up. Strip.," she reached out and took the bottle back, "I'll fill the tub."

When I was alone, I muttered, "Yes, dear."

A soak in the almost too hot bathwater had been perfect. We shared the bottle of wine and light conversation about the reception as she laid with her back to my chest. Rather than tease me, she gently massaged my left leg, finding all of the tense spots and relaxing them with her fingertips. In fact, I had felt so good and so comfortable that I had fallen asleep, waking when the no longer steaming water had shifted suddenly.

Glancing up, I found Selina getting out wrapping an oversized towel around her slender figure. I cleared my throat and she looked down at me, "Thought I was going to have to put your head under water…"

"Told you I was tired…"

After getting to my feet on my own, I stepped out of the tub without tragedy and began to towel off as well. While Selina worked on taming her hair, I opened the medicine cabinet and retrieved four orange bottles. Although my medication list had shortened, I was still on an anti-convulsing drug, the vitamins and supplements to counteract my organ loss as well as a double dose of Ibuprofen since I refused to take Percocet. I had already started taking measures against ulcers by starting on Prilosec.

Nathan laughed when I took a literal handful of pills at breakfast, but it did something tragic to Mattie's face.

"Coming?" I heard Selina call out from the bedroom.

"Slowly but surely," I replied, neglecting to look at myself in the mirror before shutting the light off and making my way to bed. I removed my hearing aides and set them in their case on my bedside table before carefully leaning the cane against it. After getting in, she was quick to lay beside me, resting her head in the crook of my neck while wrapping an arm over my chest. I found myself snaking an arm beneath her bare shoulders before exhaling.

Sleep found me within minutes, deep and heavy, immersed in an aimless fog.

Hence why when I felt hands shaking me, I bolted upright in bed.

Thankfully, Selina had rolled away from me at some point and when I looked over at her, she was still asleep. I had expected to look back over to see Alfred hovering over me but instead it had been Tim, the happiness of his special day gone from his face. When he went to speak, I shook my head, and signed to him to go into the hall. After he did, I quickly donned my hearing aides before making a grab for the cane. Heart pounding in my chest, I slowed my breathing before rising to my feet, donning a robe from the chaise before joining him.

Once the door was closed behind me, I looked him over in the light of the corridor, surprised to see him still wearing his slacks and button up shirt, although the sleeves were rolled to his elbow and his tie was missing.

"What is it?"

"Barbara received a transmission," he started to walk towards the elevator, "You're going to want to see it."

I drew a breath before following him, my leg nearly cramped from hip to heel. Once I joined him in the car, he activated his personal code to gain access to the Cave. My wrist bare of a watch, I asked him what time it was.

"Almost three… I'm sorry… I didn't want to wake Alfred to get you so I… but I knew you would want to hear it for yourself."

"Who is it from?" I asked as we landed in the Cave.

"It's about a week old, been bouncing back and forth off of satellites in western Europe… Everyone that came across it ignored it because it was encrypted to sound like jibberish, just some woman talking about random things…" The car doors opened and he waited for me to step out before following, "Barbara got a hold of it last night, finally had time to play with it tonight."

Following the glow to the computer display, I saw that Barbara was waiting via the visual from the Clocktower.

Glancing around to see no one else, in person or on the monitors, I asked, "Where's Cassandra?"

"Asleep, next door… I didn't want to wake her."

Taking a much needed seat in the computer bay, I nodded, "Let's hear it."

It was nothing but static at first, then a woman breathing nervously, soft inhales, dire exhales.

When the woman began to speak, there was no denying who the voice belonged to, me and my over-zealous hearing aides.

"I have only moments… but I needed to contact you, to try to warn you… These last fifteen years… my father hasn't been in hiding… he's been preparing… for something dire, something that involves you. And your family."

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest once more.

"Beloved…" Talia continued, "I can't even begin to explaining the things he has done to me… holding me captive… his new ally is a vile man… I need your help, I need you… My father has spent these last years training him… he wants me to wed him but I can't… he's… I couldn't do it to you, beloved, I couldn't… marry an abomination… I could barely look at him without thinking of you, and what you endured for him… before and after he died… Beloved, please, I-."

End of transmission.

^V^


End file.
